


Secret Desires

by kelcat



Category: Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Angst, BDSM, Biting, Bondage, Cheating, Cock Rings, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Drama, Drunk Sex, Edging, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fisting, M/M, Masochism, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Punishment, Romance, Rough Sex, Sadism, Sex Toys, Slash, Spanking, Subspace, Voice Kink, Voyeurism, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-18
Updated: 2012-08-05
Packaged: 2017-11-05 13:37:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelcat/pseuds/kelcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Anders wanted was a pretty girl, a decent meal, and the right to shoot lightning at fools. That was before he met a certain relentless rogue... A collection of stories in my dom!Nathaniel/sub!Anders universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Next Time

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a series of fills for the kinkmeme and kind of evolved from there. They're not in any specific order timewise, so I'll try to put notes about where each chapter fits overall.
> 
> I honestly have no idea how many stories there are going to be, because I don't really have any specific "ending" in mind.

Anders had barely locked the library door behind him when his back was slammed up against the wall, a warm body pressing against him. His cry of surprise was choked off as lips crushed against his own, an insistent tongue flicking against them, demanding access.

He gave in easily enough—when did he not?—and soon his tongue was dueling with Nathaniel's, moaning as his mouth was ravaged.

This was wrong, he knew it. If Solona ever found out, she'd incinerate him for sure. And he wouldn't blame her. He was cheating on a beautiful, luscious woman who actually seemed to adore him—with a man he didn't even really like. He _could_ blame Nathaniel for this, he was after all the one that started it—but the fact of the matter was that as much as he loved Solona there were things he craved that she couldn't give him.

Anders gasped as Nate bit at his neck. "Don't!" he hissed, tugging at the rogue's black locks. "No marks, remember?"

"What's the matter, Mage?" Nate chuckled darkly. "Afraid the Commander will find out you like it when I fuck you?"

Anders moaned. If someone had told him three months ago that the reserved and seemingly-boring Nathaniel Howe was capable of talking dirty, Anders would have laughed in their face. But when Nate was…like this, he could say the most delightfully wicked things.

Nate bit down even harder, leaving what Anders knew would not only be an angry welt, but deep teeth marks as well.

Anders smacked at the rogue's shoulder. "Damnit, Nate, I mean it!"

Nate pulled back, grinning at him evilly. "Alright, Mage. Tell me that this doesn't turn you on—that this doesn't make you _hard_ —"he thrust his hips against Anders, "and I'll stop."

Anders glared at him a moment before pulling him closer. "You are _such_ a bastard," he growled.

Nate chuckled as he fisted his hand in Anders' blond hair and tugged his head back. He leaned in and began nipping at the spot just below the mage's Adam's Apple.

Anders groaned as Nate reached up under his robes and slipped a hand inside his smallclothes. He grasped Anders' cock and began stroking it, his calloused thumb brushing roughly across the head.

Maker, he should have just gone to bed. Why hadn't he just gone to bed? He had meant to. When he left the dining hall after dinner, he had headed for the stairs that led to his and Solona's room. But his treacherous feet had turned him around and led him here. He couldn't help it, Nate's words from this morning had been ringing in his ears all day.

He had just started into breakfast when Nate had sat down beside him. Leaning across Anders on the pretext of grabbing the salt shaker, Nate had whispered into his ear. "After dinner—in the library. I'm going to fuck you raw, Mage."

Not surprisingly, Anders had lingered over breakfast longer than he usually did, waiting for his libido to calm down. It wasn't fair—Nate knew _exactly_ what buttons to push, and he pushed them every chance he got.

It had started a few months ago. Solona had gone to Denerim to meet with King Alistair about something or other, and had left Nathaniel and Anders behind at Vigil's Keep. Finding themselves with nothing to do one night, they had raided the Keep's vast wine cellar and gotten thoroughly drunk.

Anders had been regaling the rogue with tales of his many escape attempts, the stories growing wilder as the night progressed and the bottles emptied. He finally got to the story about his last attempt—before the one that had led him to become a Grey Warden—and how he had seduced the female Templar that had tracked him down.

He had been quite proud of himself for that ingenious idea, seeing as how it had bought him an extra two weeks of freedom. Hoping to embarrass the nobleman, Anders went into great detail about everything he and the Templar had done. Ropes and various food items had figured greatly into that spectacular night.

Before he realized what was happening Nate was on him, pushing him to the dusty floor of the wine cellar and kissing him passionately. Anders had fought at first, caught off guard by Nathaniel's aggressiveness. While he had had his share of lovers in the past, he had never been with a man, and hadn't ever really considered doing so.

Nate had not forced Anders that night, not at all. The rogue may have a certain amount of darkness inside him, but he was not an evil man. It was just that he was persistent. And very, very skilled. It had been rough, and more than a little painful—and it had been the best sex of his life.

The feel of Nate's hand picking up speed drove all thoughts of the past from his mind, as well as any lingering thoughts he may have had about leaving. He whimpered as Nate began nipping at his ear, his teeth scraping along the outer shell. The man certainly liked to bite—this would not be the first time Anders would have to heal himself after being with Nate.

But the rogue was right—the pain was part of what Anders enjoyed about being with him. Solona was soft and gentle and slow, whereas Nate was rough and fast and _hard_. Not to mention the feeling of Nate inside him, _filling_ him. That was something he could never get from his female lover. At least, not without a trip to The Wonders of Thedas, and even then it wouldn't be the same.

"Nate," Anders moaned, feeling himself close to release, "I'm gonna—I'm—" Nate immediately let go of his cock and he nearly cried out in frustration. But he knew the other man would not be pleased if he came too soon.

Anders forced himself to calm his breathing as he felt Nate pulling at the ties to his robes. Once they were successfully loosened Nate dragged them over his head and onto the floor, Anders' smallclothes following not long after. Anders grabbed at Nate's shirt and tugged on it until Nate relented and raised his arms so Anders could pull it off.

Before he had a chance to reach for the laces on Nate's cloth breeches, the rogue grabbed him by the shoulder and flipped him around so he was facing the wall. Anders felt Nate press up against him, rubbing his still-clothed cock against his ass.

"Nate, please," Anders whined.

He could feel Nathaniel's hot breath puff against his ear. "Please, what, Mage?"

Anders groaned in frustration and thrust his hips backwards. "You know what I want." He twisted his head to the side to look at Nate, pleading with his eyes.

Nate chuckled and raised his hand to Anders' cheek, brushing his fingers against the mage's lips. Anders took the hint and opened his mouth, capturing the first two fingers between his lips and suckling on them. He ran his tongue over the pads of the fingers over and over until they were slicked with saliva.

After several long moments, Nate pulled his hand away and brought it down to the cleft of Anders' ass. He rubbed the tight ring of muscle around Anders' entrance over and over again before finally pressing a finger inside.

Anders moaned with pleasure as Nate added another finger, roughly thrusting them in and out. His cheek pressed against the cool stone of the wall, he braced his hands on the smooth surface and pushed backwards, trying take Nate's fingers in further.

Nate bit down hard on Anders' shoulder at the same time that his fingers brushed against a particularly sensitive spot inside the mage. Anders bucked his hips in surprise at both sensations, his fingertips scrabbling against the wall for purchase.

He tried to stifle a whimper of disappointment as Nate withdrew his fingers and left him empty and wanting. The whimper turned into a moan as he felt Nate's cock pressing slowly inside of him. The brush of cloth against his ass indicated that Nate hadn't even bothered taking his breeches all the way off. Nate eased himself forward until he was pressed flush against Anders' back, and then paused.

Whining, Anders reached a hand back to grasp at Nate's hip. "Nate," he whimpered. He could hear the rogue chuckling behind him.

"Tell me what you want, Mage." Nate ran his tongue along the shell of Anders' ear. He clamped his hands tightly around Anders' hips, keeping him frozen in place. Anders tried to move forward, to push back… _anything_ to get Nate to move, but the rogue's grip was too tight.

Anders groaned softly. Maker, he hated when Nate wanted to play this game. He shook his head silently, biting his lower lip. He let out the air he had unconsciously been holding as he felt Nate ease back, but his breath caught when the rogue paused yet again—barely pressed inside of him.

"Talk for me, Anders," Nate growled, "or I'll leave you here like this, and you can get yourself off."

 _Bastard_. He would leave, too, Anders was sure of it. Just to piss Anders off. There were certainly other men in the Keep that wouldn't mind satisfying Nate's needs if he asked for it. And unlike Anders, he wouldn't be embarrassed at all to go find one of them now.

Biting back a few colorful insults, Anders took in a deep breath before murmuring "Fuck me."

Nate's chuckle was like course velvet, rich and dark. "Say it louder," he thrust his hips just the tiniest bit to emphasize his point.

Anders turned his head slightly to glare at the man behind him. " _Fuck me_ ," he growled. Nate laughed as he complied with Anders' demand, shoving himself back in roughly until he was buried to the hilt. Anders cried out hoarsely, his body shuddering with the mixture of pleasure and pain.

Nate pulled almost completely out before thrusting back in, over and over. "Is this what you wanted, Mage? Hmm?"

"Ah, Maker, yes!" Nate loosened his grip and Anders rocked his hips backwards with each thrust, trying to give as much as he was getting. His world was reduced to the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears and the feeling of Nate filling him, stretching him almost to the breaking point. "Don't stop, _please_ don't stop…"

"You like it when I'm rough, don't you?" Nate dug his fingers into Anders' hips, pulling the mage backward with each thrust.

"Y-yes, _yes, yes!"_ Anders knew what Nate wanted to hear. " _I love it!"_ he was practically screaming now, "Please, Nate, _PLEASE!"_

"Louder!" Nate ordered. He moved one hand from Anders' waist and reached around to grasp Anders' throbbing cock. He began stroking him roughly, almost painfully.

" _Fuck me, Nate! Fuck me! Ahh—"_ His voice broke as he screamed his orgasm, his seed spurting onto the wall in front of him. His chest heaved as he gasped desperately for air.

Releasing Anders' softening cock, Nate clutched his hips again as he began thrusting faster. His pace became more and more erratic as he frantically sought his own release. He shoved into Anders one final time as he released deep inside him, burying his face against Anders' neck to muffle his groans.

They stood there like that for several minutes as both men fought to regain their senses. Finally Nate pulled out of Anders with a groan and the mage slumped against the wall. Turning back around he saw Nate redoing the laces on his breeches.

Securely tucked away Nate chuckled and clapped Anders on the arm. "Thanks, Mage. See you next time."

Anders watched in silence as Nate unlocked the door and passed through it, closing it behind him. Maker, this had to end. He stood there with Nate's seed running down his leg—sore and exhausted, and utterly sated. Next time Nate came to him, he'd just refuse him. Next time he'd say no.

Right.

Next time.


	2. When the Cat's Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solona has been called away to Denerim, and Nathaniel takes the opportunity to have some fun with the mage.

Anders lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. For the last three hours he had been trying to convince himself that he was perfectly content with his life, he had everything he wanted, and he did _not_ desire Nathaniel Howe in any way, shape or form. He was failing miserably. Solona had left for a short trip to Denerim two days ago, and in the absence of his lover, he'd found himself thinking of Nathaniel constantly.

Cursing himself loudly he finally gave up on trying to sleep and pulled himself out of bed. He cracked the door open just a bit, and stuck his head out into the hallway. Satisfied that there was no one around, he crept from his room.

He padded quietly down the deserted hallways, finally reaching the other side of the Keep without incident. He paused outside of a nondescript doorway and rested his head against the cold stone wall next to it. He couldn't believe he was doing this. After two months of being on his best behavior, he was giving in to temptation yet again.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and went inside. He made a bit more noise with the door than he normally would, just to make sure Nate heard him. He knew from experience that it was not a good idea to sneak up on the rogue while he was sleeping. There was still a fire burning merrily in the hearth, indicating that Nate must not have been in bed for very long. He watched as Nate sat up, rubbing at his eyes.

"Anders?" Nathaniel asked sleepily. "What are you doing in here?"

Anders closed his eyes briefly, before opening them again and staring intently at Nate. He advanced slowly towards the bed, pulling his nightshirt over his head as he did so. Wordlessly, he climbed onto the bed and straddled Nate's hips. Anders could tell by the way the covers were bunched around the rogue's waist that he was nude, which only served to increase his desire.

He paused for a moment to gather his courage, ignoring the smirk that the other man was now openly wearing. Anders licked his lips and surged forward, crushing his lips against Nathaniel's. He moaned when he felt the rogue's tongue dart into his open mouth. He ran his fingers through Nate's hair and kissed him as if his life depended on it.

What felt like hours later, they broke from the kiss. Nate chuckled. "Solona's only been gone a few days. Surely you can last longer than that without sex."

Anders ran his hand along Nate's broad chest, tracing the outline of each muscle with his fingertips. "It's not Solona I want, and you know it." He knew his voice was a bit accusatory, but he couldn't help it.

"You're the one that said we couldn't do this anymore, Anders. You're the one that ended it, not me." Nate didn't seem particularly angry, in fact he looked extremely amused.

"I know," Anders began nipping lightly at his neck. "I just…I can't stop thinking about you." He tipped his head up until his lips were a hair's breadth from Nate's ear. "I _need_ you."

He stifled a groan when he felt Nate's fingers clutching his backside, pulling him closer. His erection was straining uncomfortably against his smallclothes; he disengaged himself from Nate's embrace long enough to pull them off before climbing back into his lap.

He gasped in pleasure as their erections rubbed together, and Anders had to resist the urge to simply rut crudely against the other man.

"Please, Nate," Anders bucked his hips against Nathaniel. "Please, I need you to take me."

Nate grasped the back of Anders' head and pulled him in for a bruising kiss, biting hard at his lower lip. He gripped Anders' hip with one hand as he leaned over to grab a bottle of oil from a drawer in the bedside table.

It occurred to Anders that this would be the first time they'd actually had sex in a bed. In storerooms, in the library, even in the stables on one memorable occasion—but never in a bed. It was a miracle they'd never been caught before, seeing as how Nate insisted on Anders being so vocal.

Nate pushed the bottle into Anders' hand. "Prepare yourself."

Raising himself up on his knees, Anders placed one hand on Nate's shoulder as he reached between his legs with the other. He groaned as he pressed a slick finger inside of himself. He pumped the digit in and out a few times before adding a second, gently stretching himself. When he was ready, he poured more oil into his hand, thoroughly coating Nate's erection with it. He lined up Nate's cock with his entrance and slowly lowered himself.

Nate made a noise of impatience as he grasped Anders' hips and pulled him down hard, sheathing himself in one quick thrust. Anders grit his teeth against the pain of being filled so suddenly. He sat motionless for several moments, adjusting to the sensation, before raising himself up and almost off of Nate's cock and then thrusting back down.

Anders paused again, quivering with need. "Bite me," he pleaded. He cried out when he felt Nate's teeth sink into his shoulder. He dug his nails into the rogue's back as the other man sucked hard at the spot he'd just bitten. " _Ah, Maker!"_ Anders sobbed. "Nate! Nate, _please!"_

With a growl, Nate flipped Anders over onto his back. Now Nate was the one on top, pounding relentlessly into the mage. "You need this?"

"More!" Anders gasped, "I need more!" He dug his fingers into Nate's backside, encouraging him to thrust deeper.

Nate closed his hand around Anders' erection, pumping it in time with his hard thrusts. Soon Anders was crying out his orgasm, back arching up from the bed. He clamped his muscles tight around Nate's length and was rewarded with a loud grunt as Nate came deep inside him.

Anders was gasping for breath as Nate pulled out and collapsed next to him. Without even thinking about it Anders moved to snuggle up to him, but the other man stopped him with a hand. Apparently the rogue was not a cuddler.

Nate rolled over onto his side to face Anders, his head propped in his hand. "How long is Solona going to be away?"

Anders shrugged as he stretched out on his back. "A couple of weeks, I think." He looked over at the rogue. "Why?"

Nate looked at him slyly. "That gives us quite a bit of...uninterrupted time."

Anders gave him a questioning look. "Time to do what, exactly?"

There was a gleam of wickedness in the rogue's eyes. "You said you needed me. I'm more than happy to oblige you. But you have to play by my rules. And that means that while Solona's gone...you're mine."

Anders swallowed nervously. He didn't trust the tone of Nate's voice, sexy as it was."Wh-" he cleared his throat, "what does that mean, exactly?"

"It means," Nathaniel replied, "you do exactly what I say; you do what I want, when I want. And, it means you follow every command I give you, without question."

Anders looked at him in trepidation. "Nate, I don't know…"

"If you're not interested…." Nate shrugged his shoulders, acting as if it made no difference to him whether or not Anders agreed to what he was asking for—no, for what he was _demanding._

Anders' eyebrows drew together. "So…what? This is the only way I can have you?"

Nate chuckled darkly. "This is the only way you _want_ me, Mage, and you know it."

He was right, damn him, Anders loved it when Nate dominated him, it was what he loved most about their being together. But this was something completely different. Alarm bells were going off, warning him about how dangerous it could be to play any of the rogue's "games". But he couldn't ignore the shiver of desire that ran through him at the thought of letting Nate control him, even for a little while.

He lay there for a few minutes, his common sense warring with his libido. His mind finally made up, he took a deep breath. "Alright."

Nate nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Then meet me here in the morning, before breakfast."

Anders looked at the large bed they were currently laying on. "Can't I just stay—"

"No." Nate rolled over, turning his back on the mage.

"Fine," Anders grumped as he climbed out of the rogue's bed. "You probably hog all the covers anyway." He got dressed slowly, part of him hoping Nate would call him back. When it was evident that he wouldn't, Anders left the room and returned to his own cold bed.

oOoOo

The following morning saw Anders standing outside Nathaniel's room once again. He hovered there for a couple of minutes before finally raising his hand to knock on the door. Before he had a chance, though, it swung open and he was face-to-face with Nathaniel.

"Are you going to stand out there all day?" Nate smirked at him.

Anders raised an eyebrow in surprise. "How did you know I was out here?"

Nate rolled his eyes. "Rogue, remember?"

"Oh. Right." Anders had a tendency to underestimate the other man's talents at stealth. Probably not a good idea, given the agreement they had made last night. Anders had a feeling he was going to need to stay on his toes.

Nathaniel stepped back from the doorway and allowed Anders to enter before closing the door behind him.

Anders stood near the door with his back pressed against the wall. It seemed silly, but he was thinking it might be a good idea to stay close to the exit—just in case he needed to make a quick escape. Nathaniel leaned forward and braced a hand against the wall, his face mere inches from Anders'.

"Do you trust me, Mage?"

Anders was caught off guard by the question. "What?"

"Do you trust me?" Nathaniel repeated.

"Well," Anders swallowed, "you scare the piss out of me...but yes, I trust you—more or less."

Nate chuckled darkly. "I am well aware of the fact that I'm a sadistic bastard, and that I take after my father a little too much." Anders was surprised to see an uncharacteristic look of softness creep into the rogue's eyes. "But I would _never_ force you to do something that you didn't want me to do. Do you understand that?"

Anders nodded. He understood, and he believed that Nate was being sincere.

"Then I want you to choose a word. Something you wouldn't normally say in the 'throes of passion', so to speak. And if I go too far—if you need me to stop—you need only say that word."

Anders wracked his brain for a word that he wouldn't normally use, but that he could easily remember, but his brain didn't seem to be functioning very well. How the hell was he supposed to think of a decent word when those slate grey eyes were staring at him so intently? "Um…how about 'darkspawn'? Is that alright?"

Nathaniel smirked. "Perfect." His expression immediately hardened. "Get on the bed, on your hands and knees."

"What? Why?"

Nate growled at him. "I thought I made it clear last night that you wouldn't question me."

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Anders quickly crawled up onto the end of the bed. He turned his head and watched as Nate went over to the wardrobe standing against the wall.

"I have something for you," Nate's voice was low and husky. "I've been saving it for a...special occasion."

"A present? For me? You shouldn't have!" Anders bit his tongue; nervousness caused him to crack stupid jokes, which usually irritated Nate—but the rogue seemed not to notice.

Nathaniel opened the wardrobe and knelt down in front of it. Grunting a little, he pulled up what appeared to be a false bottom and extracted a long wooden box. He stood back up and returned to the bed, Anders watching his every movement intently.

Nate opened the box and took out what Anders had once heard called an _objet d'amour_. It was made of a smooth, polished stone, and resembled a—

"Where in the Maker's name did you get _that?_ "

Nate chuckled. "Master Wade. He has a rather exotic stock of wares that are available to those who ask the right questions."

"And you've been saving that for me?" He had seen them before, of course, but had never used one. He couldn't help but lick his lips in anticipation. He could already imagine how it would feel to have something that smooth and hard inside him.

Nathaniel moved behind him and he felt his robes being dragged up to his waist at the same time that his smallclothes were pulled down his thighs.

A moment later an oiled finger pressed into his entrance and began thrusting in and out. He groaned as he felt a second finger being added. He rocked his hips backwards trying to urge Nathaniel's fingers in deeper, but was rewarded with nothing more than a hand clamping down on his hip to keep him from moving. Nathaniel worked his fingers in and out of Anders' arse for a few moments, stretching him.

Anders bit back a whimper when the fingers were removed.

He bit down on his bottom lip as he felt the hard phallus slowly breach his entrance. It may not have looked that wide at first sight, but it felt extremely thick when it slid inside him.

Once it was fully seated, Anders realized it was shorter than he'd thought; in fact it was just shy of where he needed it to be. If it had been just a bit longer, it would have been able to rub up against that deliciously sensitive spot that made sparks flash behind his eyes. He knew instinctively that it was designed that way on purpose.

He blinked in surprise when he felt his smallclothes being pulled back up into place, accompanied by a light smack on his arse. He turned around to see the rogue moving over to the door. "Nate, what—"

"It's time for breakfast."

Understanding finally dawned. "You mean I'm going to...? You want me to...? _All day?"_

Nate nodded at him, a wicked gleam in his eye. "All day. I want you to be nice and ready for me when I fuck you tonight."

Anders squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore how aroused he was feeling. Tentatively, he climbed off the bed, unsure of how secure the object was inside of him.

Nate seemed to understand what he was thinking. "Don't worry, it'll stay in place."

Anders took a few steps toward the door, and found that Nathaniel was right. Still, he knew he was probably walking a bit funny.

Nate turned to open the door, but paused for a moment. Before Anders realized what was happening, he was pinned against the wall, Nate's warm body pressed up against him. He leaned forward and nipped lightly at Anders' ear. "There's one more thing," he whispered. "While you are wearing this, you are _not_ allowed to pleasure yourself."

Anders blinked at him. "Why would I?"

Nathaniel's lips brushed against his ear. "Can't you feel it inside you? Stretching you—filling you?" Anders nodded. "Imagine how this is going to feel in a few hours."

Anders shivered. Suddenly he could imagine _exactly_ how it was going to feel to wear this all day. Nathaniel gave him one last nip on the ear before opening the door and walking through it. "Come on, Mage," he said over his shoulder. "You don't want to miss breakfast."

oOoOo

After an uncomfortable breakfast—where Sigrun asked him if he was running a fever—Anders spent most of the morning in the training yard, supervising the new mage recruits. He would have liked to have retreated to his room, but he was certain that Nate wouldn't allow it. And the rogue seemed able to read his mind, popping up whenever Anders was tempted to sneak away.

It also did not help that Nathaniel kept looking at him hungrily, as if he wanted to take the mage right in the training yard…in front of everyone…

Anders shook his head and returned his attention to the young mage whose burned arm he was healing; the fool had tried to cast a fireball and managed to set the sleeve of his robes on fire in the process. As Anders ran his fingers over the young man's smooth arm, he couldn't help but think of other, more heated flesh that he would like to be stroking instead; his or Nathaniel's—at this point he didn't much care.

No matter how hard he tried, his every thought was focused on the phallus seated inside him. Every time he walked, or sat, or even made a slight movement, he could feel it inside him, pressing against him, filling him. There was a constant heat burning inside him, and the fact that he could find no satisfaction was maddening.

A quiet intake of breath made him realize that he was still holding the mage's arm in his hands, and that he was now running his fingers gently over where the burn had been. Anders pulled his hands away and stammered an apology. When he turned away from the man, Nate was there, watching him intently. He felt his face flush as he walked past the rogue, not daring to meet the other man's eyes.

He heard movement behind him and realized that Nate was following him as he walked into the main hall of the Keep. Suddenly, Nate grabbed his arm and pulled him into a small alcove. Anders finally looked into the rogue's eyes and saw a gleam of possessiveness mixed with amusement.

"Do you like him?" Nate asked quietly, as he ran his hand along Anders' thigh.

Anders shivered at the touch. "He's not you," he breathed.

"Mmm," Nate idly flicked the gold hoop hanging from Anders' ear. "Perhaps you'd rather have him than me. Perhaps you want him to fuck you instead."

Anders shook his head vehemently. "No! I want you—just you."

Nate placed both hands on the wall, framing Anders between them. "Prove it."

Immediately, Anders sank to his knees. His fingers fumbled with the laces on Nate's breeches, but he finally got them loosened enough that he could slip a hand inside and wrap his fingers around Nate's hot length. Leaning in, he inhaled the musky scent of the other man's arousal as he darted his tongue against the tip of his cock. He felt fingers tighten in his hair almost painfully as the rogue thrust his hips into Anders' face.

"Get to it, Mage," Nate growled.

Anders smiled to himself as he wrapped his lips around Nate's cock, slowly sliding his mouth down the length until his nose was brushing against the tight black curls covering Nate's groin. He paused there for a few moments, before pulling back, sliding his tongue along the now slick flesh.

He sucked greedily at Nate's cock, welcoming it when the other man began thrusting shallowly into his mouth. He ignored his own painfully hard erection as his mind focused solely on the cock in his mouth and the phallus in his arse. He groaned loudly, causing Nate to buck his hips in surprise at the vibration of Anders' voice surrounding his length.

Anders reached his hands around and dug his fingers into Nate's backside, urging the other man to fuck his mouth. He felt Nate's cock pulse and he pulled back until just his lips were wrapped around the tip. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard until hot, salty fluid poured into his mouth.

Once Anders had swallowed the last of Nate's seed, the rogue pulled him to his feet and wrapped an arm around his waist. He pulled Anders into a heated kiss, his tongue mercilessly plundering Anders' mouth.

"You're mine, Mage," he murmured huskily. "Don't forget that." He laced his breeches back up and strode back out into the hallway, leaving Anders slumped against the wall of the alcove.

oOoOo

Amazingly, he actually managed to make it until after lunch. After the incident in the alcove, Anders had been profoundly thankful for the fact that he had chosen to wear his heavier robes that day: his erection therefore went unnoticed—or at least he assumed it did, seeing as how no one had commented on it.

But he knew he wasn't going to last much longer; he was just too damned aroused. The problem was that Nate seemed to be shadowing his every movement; no matter where he went, Nate was there. He needed to find a way to ditch the rogue for awhile; honestly, at this point all he needed was a few minutes out of the other man's line of sight. He was beyond the point of wanting to stretch out his pleasure—he needed release, and he needed it _now_.

He finally got his opportunity to get away from Nate when Voldrick asked him to inspect the repairs being made to the Keep's walls. Though it had been several months since the darkspawn incursion, construction was still going on, and it would be a long time before the Keep would be completely rebuilt. As Solona's second-in-command, it was Nate's job to make any necessary decisions in her absence.

As soon as Nate left for the courtyard with the dwarf at his heels, Anders retreated to the infirmary. No one would be in there at this time of day, so there was no danger of him being interrupted. Not even bothering to lock the door he hurried over to one of the cots and pulled the sheet off of the mattress. He dropped it onto the floor next to him as he braced one hand against the wall.

He pulled his robes up and reached into his smallclothes; he almost sobbed with relief when he finally wrapped his hand around his cock. He clenched his muscles around the phallus buried inside him as he began to stroke himself. He gripped himself tighter and quickened his pace, pumping himself almost fiercely. He cried out mere moments later as he orgasmed, a seemingly endless stream of his seed spilling into his hand.

The blood was pounding so loudly in his ears he didn't even hear the door being opened. But the sound of it slamming shut again was too loud to be missed.

Anders' eyes flew open to see Nate standing near the door, an unreadable look on his face. _Oh, shit. Shitshitshit!_

Nate advanced slowly into the room, like a predator stalking its prey. Anders snatched up the sheet he had tossed on the floor and used it to clean up the considerable mess he'd made on his hand and the front of his robes. He had a feeling that soiled robes were the least of his problems right now.

When he looked back up, Nate was standing dangerously close to him. He made a quiet tch-ing noise as he slowly shook his head. "Less than a day, and you're already disobeying me." Nate's voice was eerily calm, which was even more frightening than if he had shouted. "You do realize I'm going to have to punish you for this, don't you?"

Anders' heart was pounding loud enough that he was sure everyone in the Keep could hear it. He tried to speak, but found himself unable to—Nate's piercing gaze was too unnerving.

Still watching him intently, Nate picked up Anders' hand and brought it to his mouth. He ran his tongue along a finger still sticky with Anders' release. Anders pressed his lips together to keep from moaning.

"Unfortunately," Nate purred, "I have work to attend to for the next few hours. But that will give you time to think about what you've done—and to think about what I'm going to do to you."

He released Anders' hand and walked towards the door. "I expect you to be waiting for me in my room at nightfall, do you understand?"

Anders nodded.

"And I want you undressed and on the bed." He paused in the doorway, seeming to think. "You can take your 'toy' out when you get there."

Once the door had closed behind Nate, Anders slid down the wall, gasping as his backside hit the floor and the phallus inside of him was jarred. Nate's promise of punishment had succeeded far better than Anders' own release. He no longer felt even the slightest bit aroused.

oOoOo

Anders arrived in Nate's room a little early, wanting to be certain he got there before the rogue. He undressed quickly, casting aside his robes and smallclothes before attending to the object inside of him that had both aroused and frustrated him all day.

He placed it carefully into its box and returned it to the hiding place inside the wardrobe. He had mixed feelings about whether or not he wanted to see—or use—that particular item again.

Nate had said he wanted Anders waiting for him on the bed, but he didn't say how he should position himself. The bed was directly across from the door so lying on his side wouldn't give Nate a good view. He settled for sitting on the edge, his hands propped behind him and his hips thrust forward invitingly.

It wasn't very long after he'd finally situated himself satisfactorily that Nate entered the room. The rogue barely spared him a glance as he strode over to the wardrobe.

"I won't tolerate disobedience, Mage," Nate's voice was steely.

Anders craned his neck to see what Nate was doing. He was starting to not trust that wardrobe. "So," he fought to keep his voice steady, "what's my punishment going to be? A rap on the knuckles?" He laughed nervously.

Nate chuckled as he reached for something on the top shelf. "Oh, it won't be knuckles that I'll be rapping."

Anders' eyes widened as he saw the belt that Nate was now holding; suddenly there wasn't enough air in the room. As Nate approached the end of the bed where Anders was sitting, he folded the belt over so that it made a loop and smacked it against the palm of his hand.

"A belt can be painful if not used properly," Nate said conversationally. "But I can assure you, I'm quite experienced with it." Anders watched in a kind of horrified fascination as Nate continued to tap his hand with the belt. "If wielded properly the strap won't break the skin, it'll just raise a few painful welts." He chuckled quietly. "Well, perhaps saying 'a few' is a bit of an understatement.

"And there's nothing quite like the sound of leather snappingagainst bare skin." He unfolded the belt and cracked it once like a whip before casually tossing it onto the bed beside Anders, who recoiled from it as if it were a snake.

"Of course, many people favor a good, thorough hand spanking. It gives your arse a nice rosy glow without causing any welts. And it's much more… _intimate_." Nate tapped at his chin thoughtfully.

"I think I'll let you decide. Which will it be? Belt? Or hand?"

Anders could barely breathe. He looked from Nathaniel to the belt lying on the bed beside him, and back to Nathaniel.

"Choose, Anders."

His gaze was drawn back to the thick belt lying beside him _. It's alright,_ he thought to himself, _I have a word. Nate will stop whenever I want him to; I'll just say my word and everything will be fine._

He took a deep breath and, without looking at Nate, whispered, "Hand."

"What was that?"

Anders understood that Nate was giving him a chance to call this off. He knew the rogue wouldn't force him to do this, and judging by the hungry look in his eyes, there'd still be sex tonight.

"Hand," he repeated clearly, a touch of defiance in his voice. A wicked thought entered his mind: he'd already broken the rules once, how would Nate react if he broke them again? Especially while he was being punished for his first infraction.

He actually managed to smirk. "What's the matter Nate? Afraid you won't be able to make me behave?"

For a moment, Anders worried that he might have gone too far—especially when he saw the thunderous expression on the rogue's face. Then Nate smiled at him, though the smile was more menacing than friendly. "Oh, I think I can handle one apostate."

In a flash, the belt was gone from the bed and Nathaniel was sitting in its place. He grabbed Anders' arm and pulled him into his lap until he was bent over the rogue's knees, his face pressed into the mattress. Nate pinned Anders down with one arm, and began to stroke Anders' arse with his free hand. Anders was quivering, mostly in anticipation, but there was a tiny bit of fear mixed in as well.

Nate gave one of Anders' arse cheeks a light smack. "How many will it take, hmm?" His voice was soft and dangerous. "How many to make you obedient?"

Anders struggled in the rogue's hold, though he didn't struggle _too_ hard.

"Apparently quite a lot." Nate chuckled. "How about...I stop when you tell me you're sorry?"

Anders huffed as he squirmed under Nate's hold. "I suspect your hand will get tired long before that."

"That sounds like a challenge." He knew Nate was grinning, even if he couldn't see the other man's face.

The next smack that came wasn't playful or soft—it was _hard_ ; Anders had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out. Another slap, followed quickly by another on the other cheek. Over and over Nate brought his hand down hard, creating a new blossom of pain each time.

The pain built as Nate continued the spanking, making sure to cover every inch of skin on Anders' backside. He would pay attention to one side for a bit, then switch to the other. A pregnant pause, then a flurry of hard smacks. There was no rhythm, no way for Anders to know when or where the next blow would land.

Anders began to struggle again; but instead of trying to get away from Nate's hand, he was arching up into it. His lip was swollen from biting down on it so hard. He knew he was on the verge of begging—begging Nate not to stop, begging him to spank him harder. The pain was agonizing, but the longer Nate kept at it, the better that pain began to feel. It was sweet, and sharp…and perfect. And, Maker help him, he was getting extremely _aroused_.

Every part of his arse burned—he knew it must be bright red by now—but still the smacks came. Again and again, Nate's hand came down hard on his raw skin. Each one felt better than the last; the pain was intense and wonderful. Suddenly, Nate began to spank him harder, faster, his pace relentless—and Anders finally broke.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Nate!" he sobbed. Immediately, the hand stilled. "I won't do it again, I promise."

"What won't you do again, Mage?"

Anders swallowed, his throat gone dry. "I won't disobey you."

"Good." Anders yelped in pain as Nate delivered one last smack. The rogue ran his fingers over Anders' burning skin. "Your arse looks so good like this," he mused, "nice and red. Does it hurt?"

Trying to keep from whimpering, Anders nodded.

"Does it feel good?" Nate gave one cheek a gentle squeeze.

Anders nodded again. Nate's arm released him and Anders stood up. Wincing from the pain, he sat down in Nate's lap, straddling his legs. He flung his arms around Nate's neck and nuzzled his cheek. "I'm sorry, Nate," he murmured, "I'll be good, I promise."

He gasped as he felt nails scraping over his tender skin. Nate turned his head and kissed Anders' cheek almost gently. "You took your punishment well. You did very good."

Anders blushed. He was a bit embarrassed by how much Nate's praise pleased him. He cupped the back of Nate's head and began kissing him fiercely. He groaned as their tongues began dueling each other, each man seeking to deepen the kiss even more, to consume each other.

One hand tightly clutching Anders' sore backside, Nate snaked his other hand between them and grasped Anders' cock. Anders moaned into Nate's mouth. "Is this my reward for taking my medicine so well?" he chuckled as they broke from the kiss to catch their breaths.

"No, this is to take the edge off; I still have plans for you tonight." Anders blinked in surprise before remembering that his spanking had been "unscheduled," so to speak.

Nate leaned forward and bit at Anders' already swollen lip as he began to stroke his cock. Anders tipped his head back as he thrust himself into the rogue's hand, moaning loudly. Nate nipped at Anders' exposed neck as he tightened his fist around Anders' length and pumped him faster.

Soon Anders was crying out the rogue's name as he came hard into his hand. He slumped forward into Nate's embrace, resting his head on the other man's shoulder.

Nate ran his hand along Anders' back. "Now that you've learned to behave yourself, we can move on to tonight's main activities."

Anders couldn't stop himself from grinning as he picked his head up and looked at the rogue. "I'm ready when you are."

Nate pulled Anders into another bruising kiss before standing up. Anders sat on the edge of the bed, ignoring his throbbing arse as he watched Nate slowly undress. Despite how many times they had been together, this was a rare treat—Nate rarely bothered to get completely undressed before fucking Anders into oblivion.

The man was absolutely gorgeous: all hard muscle and lean physique. When Nate stepped up to the bed, completely naked, Anders took the opportunity to run his hands down the rogue's toned chest. He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around one of Nate's nipples, suckling lightly at the bud. He shivered at Nate's low moan of pleasure.

He felt fingers in his hair and then his ponytail was loosened, so that his blond locks fell free around his shoulders. Fingernails scraped lightly along his scalp as he continued suckling the hardened bud between his teeth.

"Much as I'm enjoying myself…." Nate's voice was low and harsh, a sign of how aroused he was. He pulled Anders' head up and placed a hard kiss on his lips. He motioned for Anders to move further up the bed as he retrieved the bottle of oil from the night before.

"Roll over," Nate said huskily. "I want to see that gorgeous arse up in the air."

Anders quickly obeyed. He rested his forehead against a pillow as he propped himself up on his knees and elbows, endeavoring to raise his backside up as high as he could. He stifled a moan as he felt Nate's fingers kneading his reddened cheeks.

"Do you know why I made you wear that toy all day?" Nate asked as he continued massaging Anders' arse.

"You said it was so I'd be ready for when you fuck me tonight."

"Mmm, true. But I actually have something a little different in mind."

Anders' brows drew together, but he knew better than to question the rogue. He gasped when he felt fingers slide into his entrance—he was already stretched enough that Nate had been able to insert three fingers at once.

Nate pumped his fingers in and out of Anders' arse for a few moments. "Do you like when I do this?" he asked, almost conversationally. He crooked his fingers so that he was brushing up against that sensitive spot deep inside. Anders moaned loudly as he nodded his head.

Nate purred. "I'm happy to hear that—because I'm going to do more."

This time Anders could not hold his tongue. "Wh-What do you mean?" Nate must have sensed his unease because he began running his free hand soothingly along Anders' back.

"Relax, Anders. You'll enjoy this, I promise." Nate bent down so that his lips were brushing against Anders' ear. His voice was soft and low. "I'm going to put my hand inside you."

Anders' eyes widened in surprise. "You can do that?"

Nate chuckled. "If I'm careful—which I will be. There'll be some pain while you adjust, but it'll get better. It's very intense…and _incredibly_ pleasurable."

He was finding it hard to think while Nate's fingers were still moving inside him, though his thrusts were now too shallow to reach that spot again. He tilted his head so that he was looking at Nate. A slow smile spread across his face. "Whatever you want, Nate. I'm yours." He nearly laughed as he saw the look of intense hunger in the rogue's eyes—perhaps Nate wasn't the only one with power.

Nate leaned forward and nipped at Anders' lip before straightening up again. "I want you to relax and take deep breaths. You know what to do if you want me to stop?"

Anders nodded, shifting a bit to make himself more comfortable. He closed his eyes and focused on the exquisite feeling of Nate's fingers thrusting into him. Nate worked his fingers in deeper, spreading them apart to stretch Anders even further. Anders groaned as he felt Nate pressing against that sensitive spot inside him once again.

He whimpered when he felt Nate's fingers draw back so that only the tips were still inside him. Nate chuckled quietly. "Patience, Mage." Nate brought his hand around and stroked Anders' cock a couple of times and then released it.

Nate plucked the bottle of oil from where he had left it on the bed and unstoppered it. He removed his fingers from Anders' arse completely, and Anders turned his head to watch as he covered his entire hand in the slippery oil.

"I'm going to add another finger," Nate's voice was still low and soothing. Anders nodded his acceptance before resting his head on the pillow once again. He grit his teeth as he felt Nate's fingers press inside him again, this time with a fourth finger added. It burned, but the pain wasn't as bad as he feared it would be. Of course, he knew that there was, quite literally, more to come.

Tears prickled in his eyes as Nate spread his fingers, twisting them in and out of his arse. Eventually the pain moved to the background and the pleasure increased as the muscles in his entrance began to relax around the intrusion.

Nate continued thrusting his fingers for a few more minutes before pulling them back again. He curled his fingers around Anders' hip, holding him still. "I want you to take a deep breath, and then let it out very slowly."

Anders dug his fingers into the bedclothes beneath him as he sucked in as much air as he could. He began to slowly blow it out through his lips, and he felt Nate's fingers pushing into him, the rogue timing his movements to match Anders' exhale.

Nate's fingers pushed further and further into Anders and he gasped with pain as he finally felt Nate's thumb breach his entrance. "Breathe, Anders," Nate said calmly. He took another deep breath and let it out again slowly. Nate continued pushing, working his hand in deeper and deeper.

" _Ah, fuck!"_ Anders cried out as he felt the widest part of Nate's hand slide into him. Nate gave one more quick push and suddenly his entire hand was inside; white sparks exploded in Anders' head as he cried out even louder.

His chest heaved as he gasped for breath, the blood roaring in his ears. A few tears slipped from his eyes and his entire body was shaking. He thought he heard the sound of cloth tearing as he dug his fingers even tighter into the sheet.

Nate kept his hand absolutely still, waiting for Anders to calm. The rogue murmured a few encouraging words as he ran his free hand along Anders' thigh. Anders finally stopped shaking, though the pain was still throbbing through him. He was excruciatingly aware of Nate's hand inside him, stretching him almost beyond endurance. Almost.

"You alright?" Nate asked.

Anders laughed shakily. "I don't exactly know how to answer that right now."

Nate chuckled. "I'll take that as a 'yes'—for the time being."

He could feel Nate's fingers resting lightly on his sensitive spot, and the pleasure from feeling that slight pressure was mixing in nicely with the pain. It occurred to him briefly that he should probably be concerned that he enjoyed the pain almost more than the pleasure, but he shoved the thought aside for the time being. It didn't matter; nothing mattered except for that hand inside him.

And then Nate began to wiggle his fingers. Anders nearly screamed as he felt the pads of Nate's fingers tapping up against that spot over and over again. _"Ah, fuck!"_ he yelled, " _Nate! Ah, Nate!"_ A stream of profanities flowed from between his lips as Nate began thrusting his hand shallowly, his fingers moving the entire time.

Anders was openly sobbing now, the feeling so exquisitely intense. His cock was rock-hard, and he knew he wasn't going to last long—Nate's hand moving inside him felt too damn good.

From the very start, sex with Nate had been better than the countless women he'd been with before—including Solona. But this, this was completely different. There were no words for this feeling of being completely filled, stretched— _impaled_ —by the rogue's fist. Never in his life had he felt something so intense, so _erotic_. He was sure that the pure ecstasy would consume him. No one could feel this much pleasure and not die from it. His entire body, his entire soul was being thoroughly and completely fucked.

Unable to stop himself, he began to push back against Nate's hand. He felt the tension building inside of him, threatening to consume him. Nate grasped his cock and began stroking him, hard—and this time Anders did scream as his orgasm exploded through him. His mind shattered completely as he rode wave after wave of his release, shouting into the pillow that his face was buried in.

Nate's hand was still thrusting into him shallowly, his other still wrapped around Anders' cock, and as he slowly regained his senses he realized he was still hard. _Fucking Grey Warden endurance—_ he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Come on, Anders," Nate's voice was harsh. "Come for me again." Those words undid Anders and he thrust back onto the rogue's hand as he reached his peak once again, his seed spilling into Nate's already soiled hand.

Anders' arms finally gave out on him and he slumped bonelessly forward onto the bed, his entire body shaking. He was vaguely aware of Nate's free hand skimming gently up and down his back as he fought to get his breath back.

A quiet whimper escaped through his lips as Nate slowly removed his hand. After feeling so completely filled, Anders actually felt a sense of loss and emptiness. He barely noticed when Nate got up from the bed, but the shock of a wet cloth on his backside brought him somewhat back to his senses. He obediently rolled over onto his back when Nate nudged him, and he watched as the rogue silently cleaned his stomach and thighs. The pain from Nate's spanking had been reduced to a dull throb—it still hurt, but the pain wasn't as all-consuming as it had been earlier.

Nate wiped both of his hands clean and then carelessly tossed the cloth onto the bedside table. When he moved to stretch out on the bed, Anders reached out and pulled the rogue tight to his chest. Anders needed this closeness after what had just happened, and he breathed a sigh of relief when Nate relaxed into his embrace.

He was sleepy and lethargic, but as he felt the heat of Nate's erection pressing hard into his thigh, he knew the night wasn't over quite yet. He couldn't believe the rogue's stamina; that he'd not yet sought release for himself was a true testament to his willpower.

He wrapped his arms tight around the other man's waist, pressing their bodies together as closely as possible. "Nate," his voice was cracked and hoarse. "I need—I need you to…" He was still having difficulty thinking clearly after the multiple orgasms he'd just experienced.

"I need you to come inside me," he finally managed, not knowing how else to put it. The intensity of his own emotions scared him a little—this need for… for _intimacy_ with Nathaniel. But the other man had done something to him beyond the physical, and he felt as if his soul had been ripped open.

He pulled Nate in for a deep kiss, surrendering himself to the man as he had done all night and reveling in it. He felt a sense of satisfaction as Nate groaned in pleasure. "You need this too," he whispered against Nate's lips.

Nate growled. "I don't _need_ anything, Mage," but the look of naked hunger on his face gave him away.

Anders relaxed his hold and gently pushed on the rogue's chest, urging him into a kneeling position. With what little strength he had left, he lifted his legs up and draped them over Nate's shoulders. He took a firm hold of Nate's cock and guided the man to where he needed him to be. At least there was no need for preparation.

He sighed with relief when he felt Nate slide into him. That aching emptiness that had been overwhelming him fled as Nate began thrusting into him. The rogue was silent, save for a few low grunts, but he kept his eyes locked with Anders' as he continued his hard thrusts.

Anders moaned loudly as he rocked his hips up into Nate. Knowing the rogue wasn't going to last long after holding himself back for so long, Anders dug his nails into Nate's biceps, urging him to go _harder, deeper, faster._

Nate's thrusts became more frantic and erratic as he neared the edge, and he let out one loud groan as he came deep inside his lover. Anders was too spent to fall over the edge again, but it didn't matter. This part had been for Nathaniel.

Nate lay on top of Anders for several moments before finally rolling off to the side. This time Anders made no move to close the distance between them, content to just lay there without moving. He wondered how long Nate would let him stay there before forcing him back to his own room. Just then he felt the mattress shift and an arm was draped over his midsection.

"Go to sleep, Mage," Nathaniel said gruffly. "I'll wake you before dawn, so you can get back to your room before everyone else gets up."

Anders grinned to himself as he felt the blankets being pulled up over him. He snuggled into the pillow beneath him and was asleep within seconds.


	3. Persistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As mentioned in "Next Time," Nathaniel and Anders' first encounter in the wine cellar.

Anders was feeling good; very good. In fact, he was downright _fantastic._ And he was feeling extremely amicable toward rogues at the moment. The wine cellar—usually locked and off-limits to the Wardens due to Oghren's drinking habits—was now open, due to the talents of one Nathaniel Howe. Anders and said rogue were currently sitting on the floor of the cellar, happily decreasing the Commander's stock of fine vintage wines.

"What's this one?" Anders asked, as Nate handed him yet another bottle.

"Montsimmard," Nate replied. "Made in 9:10."

Anders peered at the label. "It's twenty years old? Won't it have gone bad by now?"

"Wine, like many other things in life, gets better with age."

Anders rolled his eyes. Nate had a tendency to be over-dramatic at times. He assumed it had something to do with being a nobleman.

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter how old it is, so long as it still tastes good." He took a large swig and swished it around in his mouth for a second before swallowing. "Not bad." He smacked his lips in appreciation.

Nate glared at him. "Wine isn't supposed to be guzzled, it's supposed to be savored."

Anders grinned at him slyly. "Right. You didn't guzzle those," he pointed to the two empty bottles lying nearby, "you just 'savored' them really, really quickly."

Much to Anders' surprise, Nate actually chuckled at that. "Perhaps tonight I am not in the mood to savor," he said enigmatically.

The wine was working its way through Anders' body and he found himself telling Nate various anecdotes about his life in the Circle Tower and his many escape attempts from said Tower. Nate was a good listener, and Anders was surprised to find that he was actually sort of enjoying himself.

Usually he didn't really care for the broody rogue's company (and he was sure the feeling was mutual), but he was bored. Solona had been called to Denerim by King Alistair and she had elected to take Sigrun and Velanna with her—something about having some "girl time", which, he was slightly disappointed to find out, _did not_ mean an all-female threesome as he had originally thought. Oghren had taken advantage of the Commander's absence by shacking back up with Felsi for a bit, so he could spend some time with his son.

Which left Anders and Nate as the lone Wardens in the Keep. Nate spent much of his time in the training yard, either practicing with his bow or his daggers. He kept active, and he kept to himself.

Anders was a social creature, a habit from living in the Circle Tower for so many years. The guards bored him with all their talk about weapons, and strategies, and tactics. He lost interest in those conversations in less than three seconds.

In the old days, before he had met Solona, he would have happily spent his time chasing the skirts of the maids and the cook's assistants. But he was surprised to find that he really had no desire to be with any other woman but Solona. Strange.

His bottle of fine Orlesian wine was slowly emptying, much to his surprise. He could remember taking a couple of sips—he had refrained from drinking it too fast, lest Nate scold him again—but surely he hadn't gone through this entire bottle by himself, had he?

By the time Nate handed him another bottle, Anders had exhausted his stories of Templar abuse and was now going through some of his steamier sexual encounters.

"I take it you were quite popular in the Tower, then." Nate said, after Anders recounted the story of the buxom blond apprentice with a talent for lightning spells.

Anders gave him an impish grin. "What can I say? The ladies find me irresistible."

"Only the ladies?" Nate's voice was casual, but Anders could detect a hint of…something hidden underneath. If he didn't know better he would almost think it was lust. But that was utter nonsense, of course. Nate didn't even _like_ him, for the Maker's sake. Not that it mattered.

"The ladies were more than enough for me," he laughed nervously, though he wasn't exactly sure why he was nervous. "Not that I have anything against that, or anything," he said quickly, remembering the rogue's inclinations, "it's just…" he trailed off, not knowing how to finish.

He decided to direct the conversation away from himself. "What about you? You served as an officer in the Free Marches, didn't you? I bet you had lots of men... _under_ you." He chuckled at his own joke.

"I did not lack for company if that's what you're asking." Nate said, a touch of self-satisfaction in his voice. As his mouth curved into a smug little smile, Anders realized how full the other man's lips were. And red. He found himself hypnotized by those tantalizing lips and when Nate's tongue darted out to moisten the top one, Anders almost forgot how to breathe. He reluctantly dragged his eyes upwards to look at the rogue and the other man winked at him. Anders quickly looked away, blushing.

He took another deep drink of his wine to cover his embarrassment. He looked at Nate out of the corner of his eye only to find that the man was openly staring at him. They sat there, each man drinking from his own bottle—the silence stretching out before them.

"So," Nate finally broke the silence, "how _did_ you always manage to evade the Circle?"

"They began recruiting women," Anders said glibly. "The female Templars are _much_ easier to persuade, if you get my meaning." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. He leaned back against the wall, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

"Take my fifth escape attempt, for example. I'd made it to some pissant little town that consisted of little more than an inn and a few houses. I had a bit of coin left so I decided to treat myself to a decent meal and a halfway clean room. And who do I run into in the common room? A bloody Templar!"

He closed his eyes as he remembered that night, a little smile on his lips. He didn't recognize her, so she must not have been stationed in the Tower. Judging by her youth, she most likely had not been a Templar long. He'd taken a chance and attempted to seduce her—he had actually been quite surprised when he succeeded.

A few bottles of wine that weren't nearly as good as the ones he and Nate were drinking tonight, and he and the woman had retired to her room. Whether she was incredibly naïve or just unable to hold her liquor, he wasn't sure.

He always kept a few odds and ends in his pack, including a bundle of rope. It had actually come in handy on more than one occasion when he'd needed to make a quick escape from an upper floor—either to evade the attention of a nearby Templar, or a husband returning home sooner than his unfaithful wife had expected.

He'd been able to talk the Templar into letting him tie her up, Maker, she must have been _very_ naïve. Once she was properly trussed up, he'd given her a very thorough kiss and made his escape.

"Let me get this straight," Nathaniel interrupted his tale. "You had a woman tied up on the bed, completely at your mercy, and you just... _left?_ "

"Well, yes," Anders said bemusedly. "What was I supposed to do?"

Nate had a strangely feral look in his eye. "Anything you wanted to." His words came out in a husky whisper.

Anders flushed as he realized what Nate was saying. He tried to cover up his embarrassment with one of his usual pithy remarks. "What I _wanted_ was to get as far away from there as possible. And a pie—pie would have been nice." Alright, not his wittiest response to date, but Nate was making him extremely nervous.

"So I take it you've never tied Solona up."

"Of course not." Anders was squirming a bit now. Talking about his past exploits was fine, but he really didn't want to talk to Nate about his sexual relationship with Solona, especially as he suspected that Nate wanted her for himself. He might despise the Commander, yes, but that didn't mean he didn't want her body. "Solona's not like that."

Nate raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Well, you know, she's too sweet…and nice." He tried to imagine asking Solona if he could tie her up, but he couldn't—the idea was just too strange.

He saw the look of skepticism on the rogue's face and tried to explain. "In the Tower, none of us really had a chance to do anything other than a quick fuck up against a wall. We didn't really have time for...doing things like that," he finished lamely.

"So you've never been tied up yourself?"

Anders choked on the sip of wine he'd just taken. "What? No! Why would I want something like that?" His blush deepened.

Nate gave him a queer look. "Oh, I don't know," he said casually. "There are people that like to dominate, and there are people that like to be dominated. I was just wondering which you were."

"I'm neither." Anders tried to put a bit of contempt in his voice, but found that he couldn't quite manage it. "I don't see what's so exciting about having control of someone else."

Nate shrugged. "When it's with someone who is willing, it can be _very_ exciting. To pin someone down with your body, restrain their wrists, make them completely at your mercy. You can do anything you want to them and they're completely helpless."

Suddenly, breathing was becoming extremely difficult. Nate rose to his knees and crawled closer.

"And if your partner's willing enough, obedient enough _,_ you can dominate them without even having to restrain them." His voice had that husky quality to it again. "Just a word or a look, and they'll do anything you want. You can control how much pleasure they feel, and how much pain—and trust me, the pain can be just as good as the pleasure." He continued crawling— _stalking_ —toward Anders, a hungry glint in his eyes. "You can control when and how they find release. You can make them suffer to the point that they're begging for your cock."

Straddling Anders' legs, though not quite sitting on them, Nate leaned forward until his lips were just a hair's breadth from Anders' ear. "Until they're begging for you to fuck them."

Anders swallowed hard. He put his hands on Nate's shoulders and pushed him away—or tried to at least, it was like trying to push a boulder. One that refused to budge.

"I think you have the wrong idea, here." He chuckled nervously. "I-I don't fancy men," he stammered. "It's not that I have a problem with it or anything, like I said. I just…I don't find men attractive."

"So you've never thought about it?" He felt hot breath against his neck. "You've never wondered what it would feel like to have a cock buried in your arse?"

Anders swallowed thickly. A strange heat was building within him, one he'd never felt before. His hands were still on Nate's shoulders, but he was no longer trying to push the other man away.

"N-never," he finally managed to stammer. Though he was certainly thinking about it now.

Nate chuckled darkly. "Perhaps we should change that." And without warning he surged forward and captured Anders' lips in a kiss. Anders felt fingers tangle in his hair as Nate bit at his bottom lip. He gasped at the sensation and Nate took advantage of his open lips by thrusting his tongue into his mouth.

Anders sat frozen as Nate plundered his mouth with his tongue, beyond surprised at what was happening. His eyes were wide open, trying to comprehend the fact that Nate was _kissing him_. But surprise turned to pleasure as Nate continued to devour him, and he finally found himself responding.

He moved his hands from Nate's shoulders to behind his neck and pulled him in closer as he began to kiss the rogue back. Their tongues dueled furiously as they each sought to deepen the kiss. Nate's lips moved to Anders' jaw and then his neck.

He felt the fingers in his hair tighten painfully as Nate bit his neck hard. _Fuck, that hurt!_ He was just about to open his mouth to curse at Nate when the rogue did it again. And, Maker help him, the pain actually felt good. Electricity sparked behind his closed eyes as Nate began sucking hard at the patch of skin he'd just bitten and he realized that he was incredibly aroused.

Nate continued licking and nipping at Anders' neck as he palmed Anders' quickly growing erection through the thick fabric of his robes, roughly squeezing him. Anders gasped as he reflexively arched his hips up into the touch.

Nate's lips returned to Anders' as he began undoing the ties binding Anders' robes together. He knew he should be pushing the rogue away, but the other man's lips felt so damn good. Nate shifted a bit and Anders felt his robes being dragged up his thighs.

The feeling of a hand slipping into his smallclothes and closing around his cock brought him back to reality. He dragged his lips away from Nate's and tried to get his breath back.

"Nate, stop. W-we can't do this." He pushed at the rogue's arms. "Solona—"

"Isn't here," Nate finished for him. "And she doesn't need to know."

Anders was trying to come up with a counter to that convincing argument when Nate began to stroke his cock. He could feel the hard calluses on Nate's fingers that came from wielding a bow; they produced the most amazing friction as they slid along his length. The heat in his belly grew as Nate picked up his pace, causing him to groan loudly.

His hands moved down to Nate's back and pulled him in closer. He was gasping now, the blood pounding in his ears as he felt himself draw close to the edge. He was seconds away from exploding when Nate suddenly released him. He bit back a frustrated whimper.

Nate moved to the side, and before Anders realized what was happening, he was pulled away from the wall and lying on his back on the floor. Nate stretched out on top of him as he kissed along his jaw line. Anders tried once more to push Nate away and the rogue seized his hands and pinned them above his head with one strong hand.

The other hand he used to rub over Anders' chest and down along one lean thigh. Nate pulled back from where he had been sucking on Anders' neck and looked at him intently. The rogue's eyes were burning with need and desire.

"You keep trying to push me away—do you really want me to stop?"

Anders lay there on the hard floor, his hands still pinned over his head. The heat inside him was threatening to burn him up. He still couldn't quite believe this was happening, and he couldn't believe how strongly his body was reacting to Nate's touch. He couldn't ever remember being so turned on, so completely aroused.

An image of Solona rose up in his mind, but he quickly pushed it back down. He had come too far, the desire in him was too strong, for him to stop now. Slowly he shook his head.

"Say it," Nate growled, his eyes burning brighter.

Anders licked his lips. "Don't stop," he whispered, condemning himself with those two small words.

His wrists were released and he quickly sat up to help Nate pull his robes off. As soon as the robes were off Nate pushed him back down again and attacked his mouth. That callused hand slipped under the band of his smallclothes and they were roughly pulled down and off his legs.

Anders pushed Nate's shirt up his broad chest and the other man broke their bruising kiss so that he could tug it over his head. Anders drank in the heady sight of the toned chest hovering over him. Tentatively, he reached out his hand and brushed his thumb over one dark nipple, causing the rogue to groan quietly.

Nate leaned down until he was stretched out full-length on top of Anders. He placed the first two fingers of his right hand into his mouth and sucked on them, thoroughly coating them with saliva. Anders was somewhat familiar with the mechanics of sex between two men—having overheard others in the Tower talking about it—so he was not completely caught off guard when Nate moved his slicked fingers between Anders' legs and began rubbing at the tight ring of muscle surrounding his entrance.

He was, however, completely unprepared for the sensation of Nate's finger pressing into him. He gasped as Nate wriggled his finger in deeper. It wasn't exactly painful, just…uncomfortable. When Nate added a second finger, _then_ there was pain.

Nate pumped his fingers in and out, scissoring them so as to stretch Anders' entrance as much as possible. The stinging pain receded a bit and Anders began to relax, lost in the strange new sensation of someone's fingers thrusting into this most intimate part of him. As he became more comfortable with the feeling, he began rocking his hips upwards in time with Nate's movements.

The rogue spent several more moments stretching Anders' entrance before finally removing his fingers, leaving Anders feeling strangely empty. Nate undid the laces on his breeches and pulled out his throbbing cock. Anders felt a shiver of anticipation run through his body.

Nate took hold of Anders' legs and pushed them up so that his knees were pressing against his own chest. More saliva was used to coat his erection and then he leaned down and nipped at Anders' ear.

"Don't forget to breathe," he murmured as he pressed his cock up against Anders' eager entrance. Anders realized he had been unconsciously holding his breath, worried about how much this was going to hurt. He forced himself to take a deep breath, and as he did so, Nate began to push inside him.

The pain wasn't bad at first, no worse than the stinging sensation that Nate's fingers had brought. But then Nate pushed in further and pain burst through every part of his body. A couple of quick, deep thrusts and Nate was buried inside him to the hilt.

He paused then, waiting as Anders tried to adjust to the intrusion. His muscles were clenching hard around Nate's length, fighting against the pain. Eventually he began to relax and the tight grip he had on Nate's biceps loosened slightly.

Nate clutched Anders' hips in a bruising grip and pulled himself back and almost completely out. With a grunt he slammed himself back in to the hilt and Anders cried out in pain. He dug his nails into Nate's arms and held him in a death grip as the rogue continued thrusting into him roughly. The sensation of Nate's thick cock filling him so completely was excruciating and…and... _fantastic._

Nate shifted his position just a bit, causing his thrusts to go even deeper. Suddenly his cock pressed up against a spot deep inside Anders that he didn't even know existed, and _Andraste's fucking tits that felt so good!_ The horrible pain was relegated to the background as Nate hit that spot over and over again, causing Anders to moan in pleasure.

His entire body thrummed with ecstasy as the rogue's speed increased. Nate removed one of his hands from Anders' hip and wrapped his fingers around his painfully hard cock. He began pumping him in time with his hard thrusts and soon Anders was crying out as he came blindingly hard, shooting his seed across his and Nate's stomachs.

Nate snapped his hips twice more and then Anders felt a searing warmth inside him as Nate spilled his seed with a loud groan. He collapsed on top of Anders, breathing harshly, heat radiating off him in waves. Anders was trembling from the pain and exertion, but there was a tremendous feeling of satisfaction radiating through him as well.

Finally Nate rolled off of him and sat up. He picked up his cast aside shirt and used it to wipe Anders' seed off his chest. Anders propped himself up on his elbows and stared up at the other man, mind reeling from what had just happened.

He felt like he should say something, but he had no idea what. Instead he watched silently as Nate laced his breeches back up and stood. He grabbed the mostly-empty bottle of wine he had been drinking earlier and tipped the remaining contents into his open mouth.

He saw Anders watching him and tipped him a sly wink. "Now you know." He gave an evil little chuckle as he walked through the cellar door and up the stairs to the Keep.

Anders collapsed back onto the hard floor. He stared up at the ceiling, his body coated with sweat and his own seed. He lay there for a long time, thoughts hurtling through his mind. He wondered what the hell had just happened. He wondered how bad his hangover was going to be in the morning. And, most of all, he wondered if Nate was going to ask him to do this again. He wished like hell he knew what his answer would


	4. The Upper Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel decides to show the mage who he really belongs to.

The air inside the stables was thick and slightly musty when Anders opened the door. It had been years since the stables at Vigil's Keep had actually been used, but the smell of horse was still detectable. Weak sunlight filtered in through the windows high up on the walls—it was just barely past dawn.

Even with the sunlight, it was still fairly gloomy inside the stables, and there were shadows everywhere. It was difficult to tell if he was alone or not.

"Hello?" His voice echoed through the empty stalls as he wandered about the room. He nearly passed out from fright when he felt hot breath blow across his ear.

"You've been ignoring me, Mage." The harsh quality of Nathaniel's voice was enough to make Anders a little weak in the knees.

"Maker, Nate! Don't scare me like that!" He let out a nervous laugh. He tried to turn around, but was prevented by arms circling around his waist and a warm body pressed up against his back. He shivered when he felt Nate's tongue dart inside his ear.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" Nate's breath was hot against his neck.

"I-I'm not," Anders stammered. "I'm here, aren't I?"

The arms around him tightened slightly. "This is not the first time I've attempted to catch your attention recently."

Anders shifted nervously. The rogue's heady scent of leather and soap wafted through the air, making it hard for him to think. "Well, Solona _did_ just get back—"

Nate cut him off. "She's been back for nearly two weeks." Anders gasped as he felt sharp teeth biting at his neck. "I don't. Appreciate. Being. Ignored." Each word was punctuated by a sharp nip.

Nate suddenly stepped away from him, and Anders found himself swaying slightly, trying not to fall over. Nate circled around to stand in front of him.

"Robes off."

Anders quickly obeyed, shucking his robes and tossing them on the floor. He went to remove his smallclothes.

"You can leave those on."

Anders looked at him, startled, but didn't question him. He watched as Nate reached behind his back and pulled out something that had been tucked into his belt: a pair of manacles. Anders sucked in a sharp breath.

"Wrists out." Nate's voice was commanding, and Anders felt himself holding out his hands without even thinking about it. Nate grasped his wrist and snapped one of the cuffs around it before doing the same with the other wrist. He grabbed the chain linking the two cuffs together and lifted it over Anders' head. Anders looked up and noticed for the first time a length of chain hanging down from one of the ceiling rafters. He marveled at the fact that Nate had timed his approach perfectly so that Anders was standing in the exact spot Nate needed him to be. There was a hook at the end of the chain, and Nate hooked the manacles onto it.

Once Anders was secured, Nate ran his hands slowly down his chest, a predatory look in his eyes. "Seeing as how you were begging for me not too long ago, I'm a bit surprised that you've been avoiding me."

Anders' brow furrowed. He didn't like being reminded of how needy he had been while Solona was away. "I wasn't avoiding you, not exactly. I just don't want Solona to, you know, catch on to us." He remembered the handsome soldier he'd seen leaving Nate's room the other night. "Besides," he said querulously, "you haven't exactly been lacking for company."

Nate raised an eyebrow. "Are you jealous?"

Anders let out a harsh laugh. "That would be extremely hypocritical of me, now wouldn't it?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"No, I'm not jealous." He was almost certain he was telling the truth. Almost. "I was just wondering why you care so much about whether or not I pay attention to you. I mean, if you're so possessive of me, why doesn't it bother you that I'm with Solona?" The words were out before he could stop them, and he knew immediately that he'd gone too far.

"I have my reasons," Nate growled harshly, his eyes narrowed dangerously, "and they're no concern of yours."

Anders wanted to retort that it most certainly was his concern, seeing as how it had to do with him, but he refrained. Nate did not lose his temper often, but when he did it was terrifying.

He shifted uncomfortably. "I don't want talk about this," he mumbled.

Nathaniel stepped closer and trailed his fingertip along Anders' lower lip. "I think that you have forgotten a very, very, important fact, Mage."

Anders swallowed. "What's that?"

The rogue's eyes flashed dangerously. "That _I_ am in charge."

Anders' eyes widened. "But I thought that was just while Solona was gone."

Nate looked at him as if he were a child that had gotten one of his lessons wrong. "Is that what you _really_ thought?"

Anders glanced away, unable to look into those slate grey eyes any longer. "I don't know," he said quietly. And it was the truth.

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at that, but didn't push the matter further. Instead, he leaned in closer and placed a series of wet kisses along Anders' shoulders and neck, and Anders felt himself stirring. Even the slightest touch by the rogue never failed to arouse him. By the time Nate's tongue reached his ear he was openly whimpering.

"Please, Nate," he moaned.

"Please, what?"

"I want you."

Nate pulled away and looked at him with a calculating expression on his face. "Do you think that you can just turn me off and on at a whim?" He asked, his voice dangerously soft. "That I will be content to wait while you decide whether your desire outweighs your guilt?" He took a few steps backward.

"I think it is time that you come to a decision, Mage. I am not one to go chasing after a scared rabbit. Either you accept what is between us and stop running, or it ends. The choice is up to you."

Anders stared at him, shocked. What exactly was Nate asking him for? "Solona—"

"Solona is not a part of this," the rogue growled. "This is between you and I. Whether or not you continue with her is no concern of mine."

Anders looked down at the ground. He wasn't sure if he felt relieved or disappointed that Nate was not forcing him to choose between his two lovers, and that bothered him. He should be grateful that Nate wasn't telling him to leave Solona.

"Nate, I don't understand—"

The rogue cut him off. "Perhaps you need some time to think on it." He turned and walked toward the door.

Anders gaped at him. "Where are you going?" He watched, stunned, as the other man opened the door. "Nate!"

He stopped and looked back at Anders, an evil grin on his face. "I've found that a person tends to think better when he has time alone." And with that he was gone.

_Son of a bitch!_ Anders tugged fruitlessly at the chain, trying to get free. "Nate! _Nate!_ Come back here!" He yanked his wrists as hard as he could, trying to free them from the manacles, but it was no use. After several minutes of twisting and tugging, he gave up. Nate would come back for him, he knew. Eventually. Hopefully. _Son of a bitch!_

oOoOo

Surprisingly, Anders found that being left like that actually _did_ give him an opportunity to think. Unfortunately, he didn't really want to think about any of the things that were coming to mind. Avoidance and denial came easily to him lately, and he really didn't want to have to actually deal with what was going on. Because he didn't _know_ what was going on. On the one hand, there was Solona. Beautiful, open, kind, and extremely fond of him.

On the other hand, there was Nathaniel. Hard, brooding, selfish, sometimes cruel—and quite often didn't seem to give much of a damn about Anders one way or the other. He scared Anders, but not because of his mean streak or his lack of concern for other people. He was frightened of the feelings the other man brought out in him. When he was with the rogue, it was wonderful. Being with Nate made him feel good, physically and emotionally. And it made him feel...content, strange as that sounded. He felt like he was exactly where he needed to be when he was in the arms of the other man.

But then they would part and the spell would be broken. Reality would set in and Anders would remember once again that this was just a fling. Emotionless, casual—at least for Nathaniel. To Anders it was starting to become more, and wasn't that what _really_ scared him? Yes, yes it was. Solona he knew was his—his to love, his to care for and be with for as long as he wanted. Nathaniel was his own man, and always would be. Solona needed him, Nate did not. Solona loved him and cared for him, two things that he was sure Nate could never do.

There were the other things, too. The things he refused to let himself think about when he was out of Nate's presence. The pain, the submission. The overwhelming need to be dominated. Not desire, not pleasure, but _need_. A need so overwhelming that he felt as if it would consume him. Those weeks while Solona was gone had been like a balm on his soul. Letting Nate control him had made him feel…complete. It had made him happy in a way that being with Solona never had.

But his mind fought those feelings. It wasn't right to want those things. He had lived in the Tower of Magi for more than half his life, had been dominated and controlled by Templars who hated and despised mages. He had felt pain at their hands many times, against his will. It was wrong for him to _want_ someone to treat him like that. It was wrong for him to enjoy it. Which was why he kept running. In Nate's presence everything was fine, but when he was alone he would become so angry with himself for wanting it that he would swear to himself—time and time again—that he would just keep away from the rogue. But those promises never lasted.

It was getting harder for him to hide things from Solona, as well. She didn't seem to suspect anything, but it was only a matter of time, he knew. And Nate was not helping matters at all. In fact, he was making it worse. _That damned whip!_

Whether Nate wanted him _because_ he was with Solona or in spite of it, he didn't know. But he seemed to take great pleasure on seeing how far he could push things. To see how dangerously close they could get to the point where Solona would find out.

He thought back to the other night, when Nate had left that "surprise" for him in his and Solona's room.

oOoOo

Anders had just gotten back from the training yard; barring a few earlier incidents, the new mage recruits were coming along quite nicely. He'd opened the door to his bedroom only to find Solona kneeling on the bed. She was dressed in nothing but a thin shift and in her mouth was… _a whip?_

A whip. Her perfect red lips offset the black leather-wrapped handle that was pinched tightly between her teeth. Cascading down from the end were what looked like two dozen thin leather strips, each over a foot in length.

He stood there, stunned and speechless, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. She winked at him playfully as she pulled the whip from her mouth. "Look what I found," she purred seductively.

The thin fabric of her shift accentuated every curve of her body, and he could see the outlines of her pert nipples. She was holding the whip in her right hand and very, very gently tapping the straps against the palm of her left hand. He was surprised to find that rather than being turned on, he actually felt a wave of cold dread wash over him. Surely she couldn't be asking him to use that on her?

"Where did you get that?" His voice crackled, and he cleared his throat.

Solona looked at him with confusion. "It was on the bed when I got back tonight." She cocked her head to the side. "Didn't you put it there?"

Nervous laughter bubbled up out of him. "Why would I leave a whip on our bed?"

Was that disappointment that he saw on her face? If so, it vanished quickly as she flashed him an impish smile. "I thought it was your not-so-subtle way of letting me know that you wanted to spice things up a little."

He finally unfroze and walked closer to where she was sitting. "You—you want me to _hurt_ you? Maker, Solona! After the way the Templars treated us, I can't believe you'd want to do something like that."

Solona laughed. "Don't be stupid. It's not supposed to hurt, not really. It looks scarier than it really is." She swatted the whip playfully against his arm. The blow was light enough that the soft leather straps barely stung his skin; it was more ticklish than painful. He had never actually been whipped before, but he found it difficult to believe that it was supposed to be used so gently. And despite what she thought, he had a good feeling that, in the right hands, that whip could be very painful indeed. He ignored the fire that kindled in his belly at that thought.

He squirmed uncomfortably. "It's just...that's not really my thing." _Not like this. Not with you._ "We're fine the way we are."

She pouted. "Then why did you put it here?"

Anders shook his head. "I didn't. I don't know who—" A sudden thought occurred to him, and he felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. "Nathaniel!" The name was out before he could stop it.

"What? Why would Nathaniel give me a whip?"

Anders' mind worked furiously, trying to find a good excuse. "It's a prank!" _Oh, that was good._ "While you were gone, Nate and I were playing practical jokes on each other all the time." He forced himself to laugh.

Solona's eyebrow went up. "Nathaniel Howe played practical jokes." Her skepticism was obvious. " _Really?_ "

"Oh, yes. It sounds strange, I know. You wouldn't think to look at him, but he's quite the joker. Not that any of his jokes are funny, but he thinks they are." He realized he was babbling and shut his mouth with a snap. He carefully took the whip out of her hand, holding it at arm's length as if it were a dead rat. "I'll uh, I'll just give this back to him." He scurried out of the room before Solona had a chance to react.

He tried to keep his anger in check as he stormed across the Keep to Nathaniel's room. _That utter bastard!_

He was halfway down the hallway when he saw Nate's door open, and out walked an incredibly handsome soldier. He pulled himself back into the shadows so that the man wouldn't spot him, but he needn't have bothered. He watched as Nate appeared in the doorway. He grabbed at the soldier's arm and pulled him in for a deep kiss. Anders' stomach flipped over, and he felt heat rise up in his cheeks. Anger twisted through him, and he chastised himself for it. Of course Nate took other men to bed when he wasn't with Anders, why shouldn't he?

Nate finally released the soldier and the man took his leave. Anders watched as he passed by, apparently oblivious to the fact that he was being watched. It was so nice to see the Keep was being guarded by such attentive men. When he turned back to look at Nate's door, he saw that the other man was looking straight at him. He groaned; he should know better than to try to be stealthy in the presence of a rogue.

He took a deep breath and walked over to where Nate was leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed. His lips were curved into a smug smile.

"Evening, Mage," he drawled.

Anders ignored the greeting and thrust the whip toward the rogue. "You seem to have misplaced this." He tried his best to look stern.

Nate made no move to take the whip. "I didn't misplace it."

Anders scowled. "Solona found it in our bed," he hissed. "I had a hell of a time coming up with an excuse for _that_ , believe me."

Nate chuckled. "Wasn't she in the mood to play?"

Anders gave him a dark look. "As a matter of fact, she was. But you and I both know damn well that I'm not going to do that with her. So why did you put it there?"

Nate was still smirking. "Why don't you come into my room and find out."

Anders shook his head, irritated. "Solona's awake, and I told her I was coming here to give this back to you. She'll get suspicious if I take too long." He tried to hand the whip to Nate once again. "Just take it back."

"No," Nate replied calmly.

"No?" Anders gaped at him.

"I intend to use that on you, Mage." Nate's penetrating gaze was hypnotizing. "But not until you're ready for it. So until then, I want you to hold onto it." He smiled wickedly. "The next time you bring it back to me, I am going to use it. So you'd best make sure you're ready."

"And what if I don't want you to use it?" Anders asked, trying to keep any trace of arousal out of his voice.

Nate shrugged noncommittally. "If you don't, you don't. We'll never speak of it again. You can get rid of it if you like, but I won't take it back unless you want me to use it." He uncrossed his arms and moved closer. Anders forced himself to stand his ground, even though his instinct was to step back from the intimidating rogue.

He gasped in surprise as Nate grabbed his arm and pulled him close. He crushed their lips together in a bruising kiss. Anders couldn't help but think about the fact that Nate had done this exact thing to the soldier not ten minutes ago, and he knew Nate was trying to make some kind of point. He only wished he knew what it was.

Nate broke the kiss and gave Anders a little push backward. "Sleep well, Mage." He stepped back into his room and closed the door in Anders' face.

In the end, Anders couldn't bring himself to get rid of the whip. He crept downstairs to the infirmary, checking around each corner to make sure no one was nearby. The last thing he wanted was to be caught traipsing about the Keep with a whip in his hand. Once he made it to the infirmary, he stashed the thing deep in a linen cupboard, buried behind a large stack of bandages that no one but him ever used.

When he returned to Solona she was already tucked into bed, reading a book. Anders' abrupt attitude earlier must have quenched any desire she might have been feeling, and he was grateful for that. She didn't ask him about where he'd gone, and he didn't volunteer anything. Instead, he crawled into bed and rolled over on his side away from her, trying to force himself to fall asleep.

oOoOo

Anders stretched up onto his toes. He didn't know how long it had been since Nate had left him there, but his arms were starting to hurt from being bound over his head for so long. He looked up at the chain that the manacles were hooked to, and gave it a harsh tug—perhaps it wasn't secured to the ceiling beam very well. But of course it was, the rogue was too clever to mess up something like that.

Just then he heard the scrape of the stable door opening and then a loud, feminine shriek. His head whipped around and he saw one of the maids standing in the door, a look of complete shock on her face. As he stared at her she gave another shriek and ran out. "Wait!" Anders cried. "Don't go!" But it was too late. His shoulders slumped.

It was only a few minutes later when he heard another, more familiar feminine voice. "Andraste's flaming knickers!" He groaned as he saw Solona standing in the doorway. A snort of laughter brought attention to the fact that Velanna was standing just behind her. Perfect.

Solona rushed forward. "Anders! What happened?"

Anders fell back on the excuse he'd used the other night. "Another one of Nate's jokes, I'm afraid." He chuckled weakly. "I, um, I was going down to breakfast when, uh..." He tried to think of something convincing. "I, I blacked out! Right. I blacked out. And when I woke up, I was here." Maker, that sounded like the world's worst excuse. He scrunched his face up, waiting for the slap he knew was coming.

Instead, Solona's face pinched in concern. "You poor thing!" She stretched up and pulled at the cuffs on Anders' wrists. "I'm going to have a talk with him, this can't go on!" She was frowning now. She took a step back and assessed the situation. "Don't suppose you have the key to those?"

"Don't suppose I do," Anders snapped at her, then bit his tongue. For whatever reason, Solona had actually bought his story, it probably wasn't the best idea to provoke her. She scowled slightly before turning to Velanna. "Go and get Nate, please."

Anders' eyes widened. "What? Why do you need him?"

Solona looked at him with exasperation. "Because he probably has the key to these things. Besides," her expression darkened, "he and I are going to have words."

_Oh shit._ It was hard enough being in the same room with both of his lovers at the best of times, but now? He shuddered.

Several minutes later, Velanna returned with Nate in tow and it was just one big happy family.

"Nathaniel Howe!" Solona looked at the rogue sternly. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself! What in the Maker's name possessed you to do something like this?"

Nate's lips barely twitched and in that moment Anders _knew_ that the had set the whole thing up. No one ever came into the stables, ever. He'd sent the serving girl in here so that she'd find him. And once she saw him, tied up and naked, she'd immediately run off for help. And it was only natural that she'd seek that help from the Warden Commander. Nate had _wanted_ Solona to find Anders like that.

Nate caught Anders' eye and smirked. "I'm sure I had a reason, though I can't recall what it was."

Solona glared at him. "Well, you just get him down right now." Nate nodded his head and stepped toward Anders. A key materialized in his hand and he reached up to the manacles binding Anders' wrists. The rogue was so close that Anders could feel warm breath on his face.

Nate had his back toward Solona, and he took advantage of the situation by winking slyly at Anders and running his tongue over hips lips invitingly. Anders couldn't do anything except scowl at him. Nate unlocked the manacles and Anders was finally able to lower his arms. He immediately started rubbing at his wrists to get the circulation back.

As he pulled his robes back on, he listened to Solona laying into the rogue, chastising him for his behavior. The lecture went on for quite some time. The words 'duty' and 'honor' actually cropped up more than once, as well as 'setting an example' and 'needing to get along'.

Solona finally seemed to be winding down. "Now I know you two hate each other," she looked from one man to the other, "but you are just going to have to deal with it. You are both Wardens, and I expect you to start behaving as such. Do I make myself clear?" Both men nodded their agreement. "Good!" Solona beamed at them. "Now, I want you to shake hands."

Anders looked at Nate warily as he held out his hand. His eyes sparkling with laughter, Nate grasped it. Anders held back a grimace as the rogue squeezed just a bit harder than he should have. They pumped their clasped hands once and then dropped them.

Solona nodded in satisfaction before turning to Anders. "Are you alright?" Her face was the picture of concern as she watched Anders rubbing at his wrists once again.

Anders nodded his head. "I'm fine." He forced himself to smile.

Solona looked relieved. "Good. You missed breakfast, but I'm sure I can get the cook to rustle something up for you. Come on." Anders followed her out of the stables, ignoring the smirking rogue that they left behind.

oOoOo

Anders spent the rest of the day in a dark study, doing his best to avoid both Solona and Nate. He went through the motions of a typical day at the Keep—training new recruits, taking meals, joking with his fellow Wardens—but his heart wasn't in it. Or rather his mind wasn't. He was too busy thinking about Nate's ultimatum to be able to concentrate on anything else. He knew that Nate was expecting an answer from him soon, but he just didn't have one.

No, that wasn't true. He _did_ have an answer, but he feared it was the wrong one.

Midnight saw him lying in bed awake, the sleeping form of Solona beside him. How many times had he lain awake like this, fighting with himself? More times than he was comfortable with, certainly. He sighed in frustration—he knew what he had to do, and he may as well do it now before he lost his nerve.

Moving quietly so as not to wake Solona, he got up from the bed and carefully got dressed. After a quick trip downstairs, he went to Nate's room. Not bothering to knock, he opened the door and slipped inside.

Nate was sitting in an overstuffed chair by the fireplace, reading a book. Anders was surprised to see that he was still awake—until he realized that the rogue had probably been expecting him. The man was _always_ two steps ahead of him, and he knew Anders much better than Anders knew himself.

Silently, he walked over to the other man, who had set aside his book and was watching him intently. When he reached the chair, Anders held out his hand and showed Nate what he was holding. Nate glanced from the whip to Anders' face, his eyebrows raised.

"You do recall what I said to you about that, do you not?" Nate's voice was a quiet purr.

Anders nodded stoically. "You said you'd take it back when I was ready."

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. "And are you ready?"

"You told me I had to make a choice, Nate." Anders bit at his bottom lip. "So I'm making it." He took a deep breath and gestured to the whip in his hand. "I figure this is the best way to show you how… _committed_ I am."

A triumphant light sparked in Nate's eyes as he smiled. "I agree." He reached out and took the whip from Anders' hand. "Here?" he asked.

Anders shook his head, a tiny smile of his own creeping onto his lips. "You know where."

Nate nodded in agreement. "I'll meet you there. I need to get ready."

Anders raised an eyebrow at that. Nate was already fully dressed, what more did he need to do? But he didn't question the other man. Instead he turned and left the room, heading outside and toward the stables.

oOoOo

Nate arrived several minutes later, carrying a bag made of soft, supple leather. He dropped it on the floor and inspected Anders. "Why are you still dressed?" he asked.

Anders hurriedly removed his robes. When he got down to his smallclothes, he looked to Nate for approval. The rogue nodded and he stripped off the last remaining piece of clothing. Nate opened the bag and removed a length of rope. It was flexible in his hands, so it must have been made of a softer material than normal rope.

"Give me your wrists," Nate commanded.

Anders hesitated. "You're not going to leave me here again, are you?"

Nate chuckled. "No. I think you've learned your lesson, don't you?"

Anders nodded as he held out his hands. Nate grasped them and wound the soft rope around and between them several times. When he was finished, he tugged on the rope, making sure it was secure. Nodding with satisfaction, he took the end of the rope and tossed it over the ceiling beam. When the loose end came back down, he tied it off just above Anders' hands. Anders looked up, wondering where the chain was from this morning.

Nate saw him looking. "The Commander insisted I take it down." His lips curved into a smile.

That earned the rogue a chuckle. "It's a good thing you always have a back-up plan."

Nathaniel took a step back and surveyed his work. "Did I mention before how good you look like this?"

Anders' cheeks colored a little at that—compliments from the other man never failed to embarrass (and please) him. He tensed up just a bit when he saw Nate remove the whip from his bag. It had only taken him a few hours to realize how badly he wanted this, but he was still nervous about it. And there was still just a tiny bit of shame mixed in with his desire. He watched as the other man slowly approached him. He remembered the tickling sensation he'd felt on his arm the other night.

"Sol—" he cut himself off; best not to use her name right now. " _Someone_ said that you're not really supposed to use that hard enough to hurt. They...they thought it was supposed to be used…gently." The words sounded stupid, even to him.

Nate cocked his head to the side. "Is that how you think I should use it?"

Anders swallowed audibly as he gave a tiny shake of the head.

"Then how _do_ you want me to use it, Mage?" Nate's voice was low and seductive. "What do you want me to do?"

Anders hesitated. Maker, there were so many things he could ask Nate to do, without any embarrassment. He could ask the rogue to fuck him, ask him to go harder or faster, ask him to bite him hard enough to leave marks. But he found that he couldn't ask for this, and that frustrated him. He wanted so badly to ask, but the words just wouldn't come. He made a tiny noise of frustration that didn't go unnoticed by the other man.

Nate stepped closer and brushed his fingers over Anders' cheek. "What do you want, Anders?" he asked softly.

Anders shook his head mutely as shame washed over him once again. He looked away, unable to look at his lover.

Nate gently cupped Anders' cheek and tilted his face up, forcing him to look into those slate-grey eyes _._ As always, the rogue read him perfectly. "Don't be afraid, Anders," his voice was low and soothing. "There's nothing to be ashamed of." He continued holding Anders' face, refusing to let him look away again. "Tell me what you want."

Anders took a deep breath. "I...I w-want..." Maker, this was hard. "I want it to hurt."

Nate's voice hardened into that commanding tone that Anders so loved. "Ask me."

And just like that, Anders' fear receded. Nate had given him an order, and he knew without a doubt he had to obey. That was what the game was all about, after all. He looked at the rogue with determination. "Please whip me, Nathaniel," he whispered hoarsely. "Please make it hurt."

Nate's eyes burned with the heat of desire, and he rushed in for a kiss, biting hard at Anders' lower lip. Anders moaned loudly as Nate ground against him. The rogue chuckled wickedly against Anders' lips. "Hard for me already, Mage?"

"Always," Anders murmured.

"Mmm..." Nate bit at his lip one final time before circling around behind him. He felt a light tug on the cord binding his hair, and then fingers were combing lightly through his loosened mane.

Warm lips ghosted along the shell of his ear. "When I get through with you, Mage, you're going to be _screaming_ for me to fuck you." Nate's voice was low and harsh, and Anders couldn't help the shiver that ran through him at the rogue's promise.

"Shall we get started then?" Nate asked softly.

Another shiver coursed through Anders' body as he nodded his head.

Rough hands skimmed up and down Anders' flanks as Nate nipped at his ear. "I almost forgot." Nathaniel moved back into view and walked over to where his bag was laying. He knelt down and pulled one last item from the bag: a blue silk scarf. Anders tensed immediately. If Nate wanted to blindfold him...

Nate stood back up and walked over to his lover. He must have sensed Anders' tension, as he raised a questioning eyebrow. Anders forced himself to relax and even managed a small smile; he trusted Nate, after all.

The rogue's features softened just a bit as he leaned in for a deep kiss. With his free hand, he reached down and grasped Anders' cock and pumped it twice, causing Anders to moan against the other man's lips.

The kiss broke and Nate took a step backward. He took the narrow scarf in both hands and folded it lengthwise—once, and then twice—so that it now resembled a flat rope. With a look of concentration, he grasped Anders' cock and began winding the scarf around it; first around and between each of his balls, and then several tight loops around the base of his cock. Finally, he tied the ends off.

Anders watched Nate's actions in complete fascination—this was something he'd never heard of before. When it was done, Anders couldn't help but think of the wrapped presents he used to get on Satinalia. He chuckled. "It's quite jaunty, but is there a purpose to this?"

Nate smirked. "You'll see." He stroked Anders' cock one more time. "Can you feel that?"

Anders groaned with pleasure and nodded.

Nate nodded to himself with satisfaction. "Good, then it's not too tight." One last quick tug, and then Nate was standing behind him once again.

He felt the rogue's fingers tangle in his hair close to the scalp—gripping tight, but not pulling. Anders took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. As he released his breath, he felt the fingers tangled in his hair tighten.

Suddenly, a white-hot fire seared across his back as the first blow of the whip landed.

His head instinctively whipped forward, but Nate's hand in his hair helped to keep him steady. He didn't bother to bite back his cry of pain as the second lash landed on his backside. Another blow to his back, and two more to his arse—all carefully timed to leave enough space between blows for Anders to at least take a breath, though he was having difficulty remembering to do such a mundane thing as breathing. The pain was incredible. He felt each individual strap of leather sear into his skin, and he wondered if Nate was whipping him hard enough to break the skin. Five lashes total, and then Nate stopped. Anders bit back a noise of frustration.

"Why did you stop?" he asked, trying hard to keep from whining.

Nate's fingers trailed lightly over Anders' shoulder. "It is best to start out small, as you have never done this before."

"Maker, Nate," Anders huffed irritably, "please don't tell me we went through all this just so you could go _easy_ on me."

The fingers trailed lower down Anders back, right over one of the raw cuts left by the whip. Anders gasped in pain. He had never been so aroused in his life.

"You want more, Mage?" Nate growled the question.

Anders nodded, biting hard at his lower lip as Nate pressed his fingers harder against his wounded skin. "Maker, yes!" he gasped. "Please…."

He was rewarded with another lash of the whip against his arse. His laugh of relief turned into cries of pain as Nate dealt out three more lashes in quick succession. "Please, Nate, please, _more!_ " Another blow across his back, one on his upper thighs—and, oh, Maker, that one hurt!—and then one final lash on his arse.

There was a soft thud as the whip dropped from Nate's fingers onto the floor. As the rogue stepped closer, Anders could hear his harsh breathing and felt an immense heat radiating from him. At some point, Nate had removed his shirt and he now pressed himself up against Anders' wounded back. Nate's bare chest was coated in sweat, and Anders could feel the rogue's skin sliding against the raised welts on his back.

Nate's steadying hand in Anders' hair had kept his neck from getting hurt when his body reacted to the whipping, but his arms were starting to ache terribly. As if reading his mind, Nate reached up with a dagger in his hand and cut the rope tied to the ceiling beam. Anders immediately slumped, and he would have fallen to the floor if it weren't for Nate. Instead, he felt himself being carefully lowered to his knees on the floor, Nate still pressed tight against him.

Anders heard the pop of a cork as Nate unstoppered a bottle of oil that Anders hadn't seen him grab. He mused for a moment on how things that Nate needed always seemed to magically appear in his hands—it must have been a rogue thing. He was interrupted by the feeling of a slick finger tracing the ring of muscle around his entrance. He squirmed a bit and looked back at the rogue. "Don't prepare me Nate. Just...just take me, please. I need you." He knew he probably sounded desperate, but he didn't care.

Nate answered him by leaning in and biting down on his shoulder. He heard a quiet rustling behind him as Nate unlaced his breeches and freed his erection. Despite his request, he felt a slick finger press into him, though it didn't stay long. Then Nate's oiled cock was at his entrance, slowly pushing inside. Anders clenched his teeth against the burning sensation of Nate's cock stretching him. The lack of preparation made it more painful than usual, and it felt _so fucking good_.

Even with the pain, it was agonizing to be filled so slowly—he wanted the rogue to go hard. He thrust his hips backward, hard, letting out a loud gasp as he practically impaled himself on Nate's thick cock. The other man grunted in surprise before letting out a quiet chuckle.

"So that's how it's to be," he whispered huskily.

Anders wanted so desperately to be able to reach back and touch the other man, but his hands were still bound in front of him. Instead he tipped his head back, exposing his neck to Nate's hot kisses, and waiting for the rogue to start moving.

"Nate, please," he whined. "Fuck me!"

Nate complied, pulling slowly back before slamming back into him, hard and fast. Anders cried out in pleasure as Nate set a rough pace, thrusting frantically into Anders over and over again. Anders was already close to the edge, and Nate hadn't even touched his cock yet.

As if reading his mind, Nate reached around and grasped his erection tightly, almost painfully. He stroked Anders in time with his hard thrusts, and Anders felt himself teetering right on the edge of release.

He could feel his balls contracting toward his stomach, only to be stopped by the tight wrappings of the scarf. His eyes flew open in shock.

He heard a low chuckle behind him as Nate continued stroking him hard. "Do you like that, mage?"

Anders now realized the purpose of the binding around his cock—he wouldn't be able to find release as long as he was bound like that.

And in that moment he felt release of a different kind. He felt as if he had finally been freed of a constraint that he didn't even know he was bound by.

He knelt there, completely helpless. His head lolled back onto Nate's shoulder and he stared at the ceiling as the rogue pounded relentlessly into him. He could feel the whip marks on his back, the rope wrapped tight around his wrists, and the cock sliding in and out of his arse. He was completely and totally at his lover's mercy. His pleasure, his pain, his release—everything was controlled by Nate. And Maker help him, he loved every moment of it.

"Nate, please," Anders moaned.

Nate bit at Anders' earlobe as he continued stroking him. "What do you want, Mage?" He thrust his hips forward, increasing his pace.

Anders groaned loudly. He was no longer balanced on the edge, he was standing over the damn chasm with no firm ground under his feet, but completely unable to fall.

"I want to—" he gasped as Nate hit a sensitive spot inside him, "I want to come. Please, I need it. Please, _please_." He was babbling now, hew knew it. The desire was burning so fiercely inside him that he feared he would soon lose his mind if he didn't have release.

"Tell me who you belong to, Mage," Nate growled. He was thrusting even harder, almost frantically, and Anders cried out each time the rogue slammed against that sweet spot.

"Oh, Maker, Nate," he was whimpering now. "I-I'm yours, Nate. Always. _Always_."

At his words he heard a loud moan behind him, and then warmth filled him as Nate released deep inside him. Still riding out the waves of his orgasm, Nate untied the scarf tied around Anders' cock and balls and began stroking him, hard. It was only a few seconds before Anders was crying out his orgasm, spilling his seed over the rogue's hand.

Anders slumped backward into Nate's embrace, trying to catch his breath. He held his hands still as Nate untied the rope that bound them. Nate tossed the rope aside and began gently massaging Anders' wrists. Anders twisted a little in Nate's embrace and leaned in for a deep, languid kiss.

Long minutes later, they finally broke the kiss. Nate nipped lightly at Anders' lower lip before pulling back. He stared at Anders intently. "No more running away." He wrapped his arms tightly around Anders' waist.

Anders shook his head. "No more running. I'll do anything you tell me to, Nate." He paused a moment. " _Anything."_ He held his breath, waiting. The silence seemed to draw out for an eternity.

Then Nate nuzzled the side of his face. "I shall keep that in mind for next time."

Anders slowly exhaled, fighting the disappointment that welled up inside him. He forced himself to smile as he turned to look at the other man. "I look forward to it."


	5. The Moment of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders makes the ultimate decision.

Nathaniel slowly emerged from his nightmare, his body trembling and covered with sweat. He briefly wondered what it was that had woken him when he noticed the shadowy form sitting on the edge of his bed. He sat up, poised to lash out, when he noticed the tangy scent of earthroot wafting through the air, telling him it was Anders who was on his bed.

"Andraste's ass, Mage," he cursed. "How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak into my room? Make some noise at least." He lay back on the bed, hoping that Anders hadn't noticed him shaking.

"Sorry, I—I forgot." The uncertainty in the mage's voice caused Nate to sit up again and take a closer look at the other man. He was biting at his lower lip, a sure sign of nervousness, and his brow was creased with worry.

Stifling any thoughts of concern, Nate raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?" He noticed that Anders' position on the edge of the bed had caused his sleep shirt to get hiked up. Nate reached out and ran his hand along the inside of the mage's thigh.

Anders gasped at the touch. "I need to talk to you." The words came out in a rush.

Nate ran his hand further up Anders' thigh before grasping his waist and pulling him all the way onto the bed. He immediately covered the mage's body with his own, kissing him fervently. Long moments later, he finally broke the kiss and smirked down at Anders. "So talk." He proceeded to lean down and nip hard at Anders' neck, grateful as always that Anders specialized in Spirit Healing—it meant that Nate could make as many marks on the other man's body as he wanted to, and not have to worry about them being discovered.

He smiled to himself when he heard Anders let out a low groan. "Nate…" The mage tangled his fingers in Nate's loose hair as he bucked his hips upward. Anders was breathing hard as Nate continued to suck and bite at his neck. "Nate…" he groaned again, "Solona's leaving…"

That got Nate's attention. "Mmm?" He ran his hand along Anders' thigh again, this time with the intent of pulling his sleep shirt off completely. "Another trip to Denerim?" Immediately, he started planning the many things that he and Anders could do while the Commander was gone.

Anders grasped Nate's wrist, trying to stop his motions. "She's leaving for good."

Surprised, Nate picked his head up and looked down at the other man laying beneath him. "Are you sure?" Perhaps Anders had just misunderstood.

Anders nodded his head as he looked up at Nate. "She told me tonight. She…" he hesitated, a look of uncertainty on his face, "she asked me to go with her."

Nate froze completely. "Did she now." His voice was carefully neutral.

"She said she's tired of staying in one place," Anders explained. "We mages spend our whole lives locked up in the Circle Tower like prisoners, never allowed to leave. I think the Keep is starting to feel like another Tower to her. She wants to travel, see the rest of Thedas."

"And she wants you to go with her." Nate sat back on his haunches. "What did you tell her?"

Anders sat up and scooted backward until his back was leaning against the headboard. "That I needed to think about it." He chuckled weakly. "She wasn't very happy about that."

Nathaniel felt a short surge of relief, and silently cursed himself for it. What did it matter if Anders left with Solona? There was certainly no lack of bed partners for Nate to enjoy here at the Keep, the mage could easily be replaced.

But the words rang hollow in his mind, he knew the truth, even if he didn't care to admit it: he had become attached to Anders.

"So, what are you _going_ to tell her?"

Anders seemed to be studying the ceiling. "I don't know," he said quietly.

Nate shrugged, trying to appear casual. "It seems like an easy enough decision, Mage. Either you stay or you go."

Anders eyes flicked toward him before moving away once again. "It's not that easy." His brow creased. "I love Solona. That might sound ridiculous given what I'm doing to her, but it's the truth. But I think...I think the main reason why I'm with her is because it's safe, it's familiar." He let out a sigh of frustration. "We're both mages, we both lived in the Tower. We're alike, and we get along well. But I don't know if that's enough anymore."

Nathaniel kept silent; he had a feeling this was something that Anders had been wanting to say for a long time. And he had an even deeper feeling that this was the first time the mage was acknowledging that being with Solona might not be right—not just the first time he was acknowledging it to Nate, but the first time he was acknowledging it to himself.

After a long pause, Anders continued. "If I go with her, I might be happy. I might not be content, and it might not feel right, but I could be happy. And I don't know..." he paused, "I'm not sure…if there's anything here for me, at the Keep." He finally met Nate's eyes, though he had a wary look about him.

Now it was Nate who couldn't meet Anders' eyes. "It's not my decision to make, Mage."

Anders took a deep breath. "I need to know, Nate: is there anything here worth staying for?"

Nathaniel was getting irritated—he didn't want to have this conversation, he didn't want to admit to the mage that he had formed an attachment to him. "There might be," he grudgingly conceded.

"'Might be'," Anders echoed his words, his tone thoughtful.

Nate scowled, his patience wearing thin. "What do you want, Anders? Do you want me to tell you what you should do?"

Anders' face crumpled, and Nate suddenly realized that that was exactly what the mage wanted—what he needed. This was a turning point, Nate knew. Anders had already made his decision, but he was too afraid to voice it. Even after months of Nate's patient work, Anders was still riddled with doubt and shame. It had been reduced, certainly, but not gone completely—no matter what Anders might think.

Anders began to climb off of the bed. "I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have bothered you."

Nate grabbed hold of the mage's arm, pulling him back onto the bed. "I didn't tell you that you could leave," his voice held that tone of authority, the one Anders knew not to ignore. Anders sat back down on the bed, a questioning look on his face. Nate stared at him for a long moment before coming to a decision. "And I certainly didn't tell you that you could leave Vigil's Keep."

His expression grew harder, his voice more commanding. "You're mine, Anders,and if you think I'm going to just let you leave, you are sadly mistaken."

For a brief, brief moment, a look of relief passed across Anders' face. It was barely noticeable, but Nate had been trained to notice such things.

"And what if I think it would be better for me to leave?" Anders asked cautiously.

"You _asked_ me if there was anything for you to stay for. You _want_ me to make this decision, and so I am. If you can't accept it, you shouldn't have come to my room.

"You are _mine_ ," he repeated forcefully, "that will not change, whether Solona is here or not."

Now the relief on Anders' face was clearly evident. He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Nate. "Alright," he said quietly, "I understand."

Nate nodded. "Good. You'll need to tell Solona."

A look of panic crossed the mage's face. "What do I tell her?"

Nate scowled at him. "I don't give a fuck what you tell her. Just make sure you do it." He thought for a moment. "Don't tell her about me, though. I've no interest in letting other people know about us." _Not yet anyway_ , he added to himself.

He ignored the look of disappointment that passed across the mage's face—he knew Anders' hurt feelings would pass. They both knew things would be much easier for everyone if Solona left without ever knowing that her lover had been unfaithful to her. Not that Nate particularly cared about Solona's feelings, but he had a strong suspicion that she would be inclined to name him as her successor, and he didn't want to fuck that up. And he knew it would hurt Anders, but he ignored that treacherous thought.

Nate let out a tired sigh. He reached out for Anders, cupping the back of the mage's head as he pulled him in for what might almost be considered a tender kiss. When they were both desperate for breath, he pulled away.

"Go back to bed, Mage," he said, not unkindly. "You can tell Solona in the morning." He had a sudden thought. "When is she planning on leaving?"

"In a week or so, I think." Anders let out a quiet chuckle. "You know how she is: once she makes up her mind to do something, she wants to get it done as soon as possible."

Nate nodded. He didn't relish the idea of a week's worth of awkwardness between Anders and Solona, but he wanted the other man to tell her as soon as possible—just in case he lost his nerve. There was a vast difference between what Anders wanted, and what he _thought_ he should want. Nate just needed to be patient if he wanted the walls that Anders had built around himself to be broken down completely.

Anders again moved to get up from the bed, and this time Nate didn't stop him. Nate listened to the quiet padding of the mage's feet as he laid back down and pulled the covers around himself. He had actually started to drift back to sleep when Anders spoke.

"Thank you, Nate." The words were barely above a whisper, but Nathaniel heard them all the same. As the door clicked shut, Nate found himself wondering if he had done the right thing.


	6. Reflections and Fantasies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel has some "alone time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief interlude, set not long before "When the Cat's Away."

Anders was with _her_ tonight, Nathaniel knew it. He was sharing her bed; kissing her; _making love_ to her, as Anders would likely call it. And that shouldn't bother him in the least… but it did.

Anders spent every night with Solona, of course – it was his room as much as hers – but Nathaniel never put much thought into that, never really cared. He suspected that their love life wasn't quite as prolific anymore, not since Nathaniel had secretly come onto the scene. And even when they were intimate, Nathaniel rarely knew about it. Suspected, yes, but usually Anders and Solona weren't obvious about their nights of intimacy.

Tonight was different, though. It had been exactly one year ago today that they'd defeated the Mother, and apparently Solona was determined to celebrate it with her lover. She didn't come out and announce it, of course, but Nathaniel knew. He knew it in the way that Solona fawned over Anders all through dinner, and he knew it in the way that Anders had avoided looking at Nathaniel. It shouldn't bother him… but it did.

What made it even worse was that Nathaniel was lying in his own bed alone. He had had his share of casual lovers here in the Keep; not all of them before he and Anders had started… whatever it was they had. The logical thing for him to have done upon realizing what Anders would be up to tonight would have been for Nathaniel to seek out his own company; he hadn't though. Instead, he'd spent a few hours in the library before going up to his own empty room.

Though, even if he _had_ invited someone to share his bed tonight, they wouldn't still be there; Nathaniel very rarely allowed a lover to spend the night. It was too intimate, too personal. But at least he would have had company for a few hours, along with a chance to sate himself and channel his frustration into something worthwhile. Instead, he was lying there in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying not think about what was likely going on in Anders' and Solona's bedchambers. He focused instead on all of the things he would do to the mage to make up for this. Any time that he knew or suspected that Anders and Solona had been intimate, Nathaniel felt a certain animalistic need to reclaim what was his in the form of rough, dominating sex. If he had deigned to give the man more credit, he would have realized that it was for precisely that purpose that Anders sometimes hinted vaguely about his plans for the evening with Solona. The thought never occurred to Nathaniel, though.

He'd had so many fantasies about the mage in recent months, each one dirtier than the last, and he'd been able to fulfill quite a few of these fantasies. There was one daydream that he'd never had the chance to act out, though he still held out hope that eventually there would be an opportunity to do so. Provided there was a full day where no one would question why Anders wasn't around, that is. It was this dream that Nathaniel dwelled on now, his hand wandering down beneath the waist of his sleep pants.

Anders would be tied up – one of Nathaniel's favorite things to do to the mage – his hands, and possibly his legs, bound to the bedposts. Nathaniel's fantasy was to take the mage over and over, all day long. He'd tie his lover up in the morning and fuck him senseless, making sure not to let Anders come. Then Nathaniel would go down to breakfast, leaving Anders exactly where he was. He might wander up to the room again mid-morning, after lunch, before training – any time he could spare a moment to ravish the other man.

As he dreamt about the many ways he would take his lover while tied up, Nathaniel began stroking himself – long pulls, his fist squeezing gently every now and again. He thought about the moment when he would finally allow Anders his release, after hours and hours of Nathaniel sating himself on his lover.

It would be well past nightfall, after Nathaniel had fucked him one last time. Anders would be out of his mind with need – Nathaniel worked himself harder as he imagined the mage's voice pleading with him for release. He would be begging for it, Nathaniel would make sure of that. There would be promises to do _anything Nathaniel wanted_ , so long as he allowed Anders to come.

He reached down and massaged his sac as he imagined himself lying in bed next to his lover, drinking in the pleas. He would make sure to murmur a few words of encouragement, his hands roaming over every inch of Anders' body, except for those few inches that were badly in need of attention.

Just when Anders was close to tears, _that's_ when Nathaniel would wrap his hand around the mage's cock and pump him hard, just as he was pumping himself now. After being tormented all day, it would take only a few moments for Anders to reach his climax. But what a climax it would be. His seed would spill forth over Nathaniel's hand in a seemingly endless stream, hours of pent up need finally exploding out of him. Nathaniel would stroke him through it, milking every last drop of come from his lover's aching cock.

Nathaniel planted his feet on the mattress, bucking his hips up into his hand as he saw himself bringing his hand covered with Anders' seed to his mouth and licking his fingers clean. The image of relaxed bliss fixed on Anders' face was enough to bring Nathaniel over the edge in the here and now. With a low groan he came hard, the cords of his neck standing out as he rode out his orgasm, his warm seed spilling over his hand just as Anders' had in his fantasy.

His urges tended to, Nathaniel felt his body relax. He grabbed a corner of the sheet and used it to wipe his hand and stomach clean, then tossed it aside. His heartbeat, which had been racing during and after his explosive orgasm, finally slowed down to its normal pace. He wiped an arm over his face, clearing away the sweat that had broken out there. He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep. But after several minutes he realized it was no use; even in his newly-relaxed state, he was still on edge. He could not get those thoughts of Anders out of his mind. Anders and _her._ Something needed to be done about that, but he wasn't quite sure what.

He refused to force Anders to leave her – that would just cause too many problems. Anders being in a relationship with her was convenient in many ways: it meant that Nathaniel didn't have to declare any sort of commitment to the mage, and that he was free to bed others if he so desired, without having to offer any excuses. He wasn't worried about Solona's reaction to it. Even though she was the Warden-Commander, and therefor his superior, he didn't give a rat's arse what she thought of him. If Solona _were_ to find out that Anders was cheating on her with Nathaniel, there would be no guilt on Nathaniel's part. No apologies, no regrets. If her feelings got hurt because of it, that was her own damn fault. The only downside would be that she may retaliate in some way, such as appointing someone else as her successor if she ever decided to step down from her post. Amaranthine was Nathaniel's by right, and he _would_ get it back someday, no matter what.

Even so, he didn't try _too_ hard to keep his dalliances with Anders a secret. There were times when he purposely had the mage make noise while they were together, or chose spots where someone could very possibly walk in on them. It was the thrill of it that appealed to Nathaniel; the possibility of getting caught made the sex even more erotic than it already was. There was also a not-so-small part of him that relished the fact that he was repeatedly stealing away something that was precious to Solona. Even with everything he knew now, he still would never forgive her for murdering his father. Part of him wanted to be caught by her just because it would devastate her. But his sense of self-preservation was stronger than his desire for revenge.

Still, Anders would definitely need to make this up to Nathaniel. He would need a reminder of everything Nathaniel could do for him – and _to_ him – that Solona couldn't. He decided that it wouldn't be enough to just tie Anders up and tease him; there needed to be more before he would truly be satisfied that Anders understood. Ropes or scarves wouldn't do... there would be leather cuffs, buckled around his wrists and ankles and anchored to the bedposts with chains or long leather straps. There was a leatherworker in Amaranthine that, for the right coin, was willing to make just about anything.

Perhaps a whip, even. Nothing big, but definitely noticeable. He had spent quite a bit of time in Starkhaven in his younger days, and a friend there had been very knowledgeable about various things to do with sex. His education in the matter rivaled that of the most refined and experienced whore. He had had a vast collection of whips and other toys, Nathaniel recalled, all of varying sizes and degrees of severity. One or two of them were so small that they could actually be used on the cock or the balls without causing any real harm. They were made of soft leather strips, no more than a couple of inches in length, but the areas of the body that they were designed for were sensitive enough that there would be a definite sting from the lashes, though they were meant more to stimulate than to actually hurt.

Nathaniel was growing hard again, just thinking about all of this. It was late enough at night that he seriously considered sneaking into Anders' bedchambers and secreting him out without waking Solona. A quick fuck up against the wall would be more than enough to satisfy Nathaniel's desire. But it was too risky, even by his standards. He settled on stroking himself again, thrusting his hips so that he was fucking his own hand, imagining it to be Anders'. It went faster this time, with thoughts of whips and handcuffs and other toys swimming through his mind. As he came for the second time, he actually had to bite down on his free hand to keep from crying out.

When he was done, drowsiness finally took over, his body's need for sleep finally overpowering his irritation and frustration. As he pulled the covers up around him and drifted towards sleep, his mind held on to one last thought: the mage would owe him a great deal for tonight's transgression, and Nathaniel would make sure to extract his payment in full.


	7. Just One Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders wants to know what it is like to take another man, but Nathaniel refuses to give up his control. As their visit to Denerim coincides with Zevran's, Nathaniel comes up with what he believes is the perfect solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wound up taking me about eight months to write; the dynamics of bringing a third person into such a clearly defined dom/sub relationship wound up being much trickier than I'd thought it would be!

_What’s it like?_

Even a month later, those words – whispered in the darkness – still haunted Nathaniel as he stood in the training yard at Castle Denerim, practicing his archery.

oOoOo

They’d been in bed in the room that Anders had once shared with Solona, but now shared with Nathaniel, the new Warden-Commander.

Anders’ expression was a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “I mean, what does it feel like to take another man?” he asked further, as if Nathaniel might not understand what he meant.

“It’s difficult to describe,”he answered shortly, trying to brush the question away. But Anders seemed determined not to let the subject drop.

“It’s different from a woman, though... right? Tighter, I suspect, more intense.”

Nathaniel looked at his lover, slightly amused despite himself. “Didn’t you and Solona ever...”

Anders shook his head. “I asked her to once, but she said no.”

The rogue snorted in derision. “Not surprising, from her.” What _was_ surprising, however, was the look of irritation on Anders’ face.

“You can lay off talking about her like that, you know,” he said a bit sharply. “She’s gone.”

There was an underlying meaning to that statement: _You got what you wanted: me. I stayed for you, and we both know it._ But he knew Anders would never say something like that to him. Still, he relented. It was rare for Anders to become upset with him, but when he did, it usually meant that Nathaniel had hit a _very_ sore spot, and Solona was the sorest of them all. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The _sorest_ spot, for the both of them, was any discussion of emotions or feelings. That was something they _never_ discussed.

“Sorry,” he said, aware that he probably didn’t sound like he was.

Anders opened his mouth to speak, most likely to ask his original question again, but Nathaniel waved him away. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

For a moment, Anders looked like he wanted to protest, but he kept silent, frowning slightly as he settled against the pillows and closed his eyes.

oOoOo

Anders hadn’t brought the subject up again, but that hadn’t stopped Nathaniel from thinking about it. Months of their being together had changed Nathaniel’s feelings for Anders quite a bit. He’d finally come to accept that their relationship was about more than just sex now, and that he actually cared about the mage, maybe even had affection for him. He steadfastly refused to believe it was anything more than that, though. Nathaniel was not capable of being in love, of making himself that vulnerable to another person. To allow himself to be vulnerable was to give up control, and he refused to do that for anyone. His father had ingrained in him the idea that losing control was weakness, and weakness _was not allowed_. Period. Showing weakness in front of Rendon Howe often led to punishment – be it by belt or hand, or just scathing words or public humiliation.

When Nathaniel was twelve summers old, his beloved mabari, Fang, had died. He had heard the news during a dinner party that his mother was holding, and he had wept bitterly at the table. Great, heaving sobs, for an animal that had shown him more affection than his mother and father ever had, had wracked his body. When Rendon had seen Nathaniel’s reaction, he ridiculed his son for it, calling him weak, spineless, disgusting; the words had been all the more cutting for the fact that they’d been shouted in front of a roomful of noblemen and -women from throughout Amaranthine, as well as several servants.

He had never cried again – not when his mother had died, nor when they’d found Adria in the Keep’s basement, transformed into a hideous ghoul by the Taint; he had learned his lesson, and he had learned it well.

He cared for Anders. He was willing to admit that, at least. He’d found that he enjoyed giving Anders pleasure intimately, even at the sake of delaying his own. But letting Anders take him, letting him be the dominant one even just once, was something he would not – _could not_ – do. So he had ignored the question that night, and behaved afterwards as if it had never been asked. By doing so, he hoped that Anders realized the subject was not up for discussion. Not now, not ever.

oOoOo

A few weeks passed before Anders brought the issue up again, and this time he was more... direct. They were staying at the palace in Denerim; Nathaniel, as Warden-Commander, had been called by the King to discuss the future of the Wardens in Ferelden. Nathaniel awoke in their guestroom to feel a heavy weight pressing down on his legs. He came alert immediately, to find Anders sitting above him, straddling his legs. Nathaniel’s brow creased with irritation – despite his warnings not to, Anders was still in the habit of waking him in the middle of the night, usually because he had something on his mind that was bothering him.

He was surprised, then, to discover that Anders was nude, the sleepshirt he had gone to bed in apparently cast aside. So he had been woken for a more enjoyable reason; he had no qualms with that. He smirked as he ran his hands along Anders’ bare thighs, up his waist, to his back. He tried to pull the mage down to kiss him, and was surprised once more when he met with resistance from the other man.

He was soon distracted by Anders’ hands running along his chest. He stifled a groan as those deft fingers pinched at one of his nipples. In another attempt to take control of the situation, he moved his hands down to Anders’ waist and he tried to flip him backwards onto the bed, only to find Anders still resolutely resisting him. Nathaniel wasn’t used to the mage doing anything other than complying with Nathaniel’s wishes, so he hadn’t really made much of an effort to get the mage onto the bed.

Anders had yet to speak a word, or even to make a sound, and Nathaniel was starting to feel just the tiniest bit of unease. He grasped Anders’ waist harder, and was just about to force him onto the bed when Anders pressed his hands flat against Nathaniel’s chest, a stream of white light flaring from them.

Nathaniel’s eyes had pinched shut, reacting to the sudden light. When he opened them again he glared up at the mage. “What the hell was that?”

He watched as Anders leaned down, his lips brushing lightly against his cheek. “Something to help you,” he whispered. It was then that Nate realized he couldn’t move. He tried to release his hold on Anders’ hips, but it was as if his hands were frozen. His arms, his legs, his feet: every part of his body was immobile, save for his mouth, which he immediately made use of.

“What the fuck are you doing, mage?” His tone was rough and menacing, and he could feel the shiver that ran through the other man. “What did you do to me?”

“It’s just a spell, Nate, to help you relax.” His lips moved along Nathaniel’s neck, his mouth sucking lightly at the skin. “To help you let go.”

Nathaniel tried to struggle against the spell, but it was no use. He was completely powerless, and – to his own disgust – frightened.

“I want to take you, Nate,” Anders whispered, not seeming to notice his lover’s distress. “I want to know what it’s like to – “

“Let me up, mage.” He managed to keep himself from shouting the words, managed to push down the rising fear, but he could feel it threatening to suffocate him. “Let me up. Right. _Now._ ” The last word was spoken loudly, as Nathaniel felt his control sliding away.

Anders pulled away, looking at Nate with concern. What the other man saw on his face must have been more than enough to make him realize that his lover was deadly serious. There was another flash of light and Nathaniel felt himself released from the invisible bonds.

Immediately he pushed Anders away from him, hard. There was a look of almost comical surprise on the other man’s face as he fell backwards onto the bed, but Nathaniel barely noticed. He was sitting straight up, breathing hard. He scooted to the edge of the bed, wanting to get up, to get away, but he was worried that his legs might not hold him. He hadn’t been this shaken up, this afraid, in a long, long time.

He felt movement on the bed, and a hand rested lightly on his shoulder. Nathaniel turned and practically snarled at his lover, shoving his hand off roughly. He turned away, glaring at the wall in front of him. He took several quiet breaths, forcing himself under control again.

“I’m sorry, Nate.” Anders’ voice was thick with either worry or fear, he couldn’t quite tell. “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry….” Movement again, as Anders stood up from the bed. He bent down, retrieving the discarded sleepshirt that was next to Nathaniel’s foot. As he straightened, Nathaniel grasped his wrist in a bruising grip and pulled him in close, standing him between his legs.

Not able to look at Anders, he wrapped his arms around the mage’s waist and leaned his forehead against his chest. “Am I an evil man?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“What?” Anders sounded genuinely shocked, clearly taken aback by Nathaniel’s behavior. “Of course you’re not evil.” Nathaniel felt gentle fingers run through his hair. “How could you even think that?”

Nathaniel didn’t respond, instead tightening his hold on the other man, drawing him in close. He heard a quiet sigh above him.

“I’m sorry if I crossed the line, Nathaniel,” his lover whispered quietly. “I didn’t mean to. I just… sometimes I feel like I’m getting more out of this than you are.”

Nathaniel started in surprise. He lifted his head and caught his lover’s eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

Anders looked away, but not before Nathaniel saw the pained expression on his face. “You take care of me,” he said quietly. “You give me what I need. You _know_ what I need _._ And I never give you anything back.” His eyes darted back to Nathaniel. “I just wanted to give you something back. To make you feel good, like you make me feel.”

Nathaniel relaxed a little. “You give me plenty, Anders. You just don’t realize.”

“ _What_ do I give you, Nate? That’s what I don’t understand.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “You don’t need to understand.” _Because I can’t explain it,_ he thought to himself. He swallowed thickly. “Just know that you give me what I need as well.”

The fingers running through his hair stilled. “Alright,” Anders said softly. “I trust you.”

They sat like that for a while longer, before Nathaniel finally pulled away, mumbling something about both of them needing sleep. But it was a long time before sleep finally claimed him, and when it did, it was fitful; broken up by dreams of days long past.

oOoOo

Nathaniel was shooting arrow after arrow into the target as he reflected on everything that had happened in the last few weeks – including the disastrous events of the night before. He was broken from his reverie when he saw the elf approaching. Smooth brown skin, light blond hair, his body was lean and toned. There was a smirk playing on his lips as he approached Nathaniel, a shortbow held casually in his hand. “You are Nathaniel Howe, are you not?” The elf’s thickly accented voice was rich and melodic, and Nathaniel could feel a heat rising within him.

“I am.” He was instantly on the alert – his mind churning with questions about who this elf was and what he intentions were – but his voice stayed carefully neutral even as his body tensed in readiness of a confrontation.

The elf appeared to read his body language. “There is no need to be wary, my friend. I am not here for any nefarious reasons.” He stepped closer, holding out his free hand. “I am Zevran Arainai, an old friend of Solona’s.” Nathaniel started, his body coiling even tighter with the idea that this man might be out for revenge, at the familiar name: Zevran, the Antivan assassin hired by his father to murder the last two surviving Wardens during the Blight. Zevran looked at him with obvious amusement as he withdrew his hand. “Ah, well, I suppose I should not have expected a warm welcome.”

“What do you want?” Nathaniel asked bluntly.

“Simply to meet you,” Zevran replied casually. “I have heard much about you from Solona and Alistair. You have earned quite a reputation for being a formidable fighter, especially with a longbow.”

Nathaniel shrugged, still on his guard, but willing to give Zevran the benefit of the doubt. If he’d truly wanted to do Nathaniel harm, he probably wouldn’t have announced himself so brashly. “I do well enough, I suppose.”

Zevran laughed lightly. “Oh, I’d say you do _quite_ well.” He winked at Nathaniel before turning to look at the straw target some ways off. “You have hit the bull’s eye four times out of five.”

Nathaniel didn’t bother following Zevran’s gaze, but took the few moments given to him to look at him appraisingly. His eyes skimmed over the toned legs, the muscular forearms, the slender neck and full lips. He looked further up to see amber eyes sparkling at him.

“Do you like what you see, _amico_?”

“Perhaps,” Nathaniel said casually, not willing to show any real interest. He grabbed an arrow from his quiver and nocked his bow, finally turning his attention back to the target.

He heard a quiet chuckle behind him. “‘Perhaps.’ Well, if it ever turns into ‘definitely,’ I trust that you will let me know.” Footsteps indicated that the elf was taking his leave. “And the offer stands for your mage, as well – though I do not know if you would allow it.”

The arrow that Nathaniel had just released thudded into the ground, well short of its target. He turned sharply, staring intently at the elf. He was aware that others knew of his relationship with Anders, but as far as he knew, no one had figured out that their relationship had started well before Solona left. Zevran seemed to be hinting at something that no one should have known. “Just what is that supposed to mean? If I ‘allow it’?”

Zevran shrugged. “As an assassin, I have been trained to spot things that most people would not usually notice. There are subtle signs, should one care to look for them.”

Nathaniel frowned. “And what do those signs say?”

“He belongs to you,” Zevran said simply. “You may pretend to be equals in front of others, but in private… you are his Master.” The words weren’t said accusingly or angrily, rather it was merely as if the elf was stating an obvious fact. He looked at Nathaniel questioningly. “Am I right?”

“You might be,” Nathaniel said cautiously, “though I’m not sure why such a thing should matter to you.”

Zevran smiled a little as he took a few steps closer to Nathaniel. His voice was low, almost a purr. “Let us just say that I very much approve of such arrangements.” He stepped even closer. “And should you ever wish it, I would very much like to join you.”

Zevran was so close now that Nathaniel could see the dark brown flecks in his amber eyes. Very slowly, Zevran reached up and brushed a finger along Nathaniel’s cheek. “I have a weakness for strong men,” he whispered huskily.

Before Nathaniel could react, Zevran’s touch was gone and he was walking back toward the castle. “As I said, _caro_ ,” he called over his shoulder, “should your ‘perhaps’ ever change to ‘definitely,’ be sure to let me know.”

Nathaniel stared after the retreating figure before finally going to fetch his arrows. His mind worked furiously as he yanked the spent arrows out of the straw target. Was Zevran truly just extremely observant, or had Nathaniel been careless? After Solona had left, several different people had made advances towards Anders, to the point where Nathaniel had finally revealed that he and Anders were together, though he’d taken great care to make sure no one knew just _when_ their relationship had begun. But even though he wanted everyone to know that the mage was taken, he did not want anyone to know the true nature of their relationship. It was one that was beneficial to them both, but would perhaps be considered unsavory in most circles.

But Zevran didn’t appear to think that – in fact, he seemed quite amenable to the idea. Nathaniel wondered if the elf had ever been in such an… _arrangement_ , as he had called it. He returned to his position, nocking another arrow as he tried to return to the state of peace that Zevran had startled him from.

oOoOo

Several days passed, Nathaniel performing the tedious duties of the Warden-Commander. During the day he attended meeting after meeting; sometimes with King Alistair alone, oftentimes with several nobles, demanding to know how things were going at Vigil’s Keep, and how capable Nathaniel really was of leading the Fereldan Wardens.

To Nathaniel’s surprise, Zevran often attended those meetings, usually sitting in a corner, quietly watching the goings-on. Nathaniel found himself glancing at the elf whenever he had a chance, observing and admiring him. It irritated him to no end that he couldn’t just bed Zevran as he once would have. It had not bothered him in the least to take other lovers when Anders was with Solona, and had done so quite often, actually. But now that it was just the two of them, he felt tied to the other man. To sleep with someone else now would hurt Anders deeply after everything he’d given up for Nathaniel, and Nathaniel couldn’t allow that.

The small amounts of free time he was allowed were usually spent wandering the castle grounds or perusing books in the vast library. The mage, who had little else to do in the castle, usually accompanied Nathaniel, whether he desired Anders’ presence or not. And no matter where they went, they always seemed to run into Zevran. The assassin rarely approached them, merely casting a sly smile or a wink as in passing. The most curious thing about these encounters, though, was Anders’ reactions to them. Whenever they ran across Zevran, his lover would watch the man as much as Nathaniel did. Several times he caught an appreciative look on Anders’ face when he watched Zevran, and each time, the mage became somewhat flustered when the assassin spoke to him: a sure sign of attraction as far as Nathaniel was concerned.

It was after one such encounter – the third that day, in fact – that Nathaniel realized something. In light of Anders’ desire to take another man… well, perhaps they both could have what they wanted. Nathaniel could give his lover what he wanted, while still maintaining his control within the relationship.

He would invite Zevran to join them tonight, and not tell Anders about it ahead of time. He knew that the mage would be hesitant, and if Nathaniel gave him time to think it over, he would lose his nerve and try to back out of it, but he also knew that his lover’s desire for the elf was strong. Nathaniel decided that his best course of action was not to ask, but to do.

oOoOo

Nathaniel set his plan in motion that evening. He and Anders would be returning to Amaranthine tomorrow afternoon, right after one final meeting with the King’s advisor. Nathaniel approached Zevran just before dinner, and the assassin’s acceptance of the invitation was immediate; he would meet them in their bedchamber an hour after dark.

Eamon’s immense distrust of mages meant that Anders and Nathaniel had been tucked away in the most secluded wing of the castle, most likely in the hopes that Anders would feel too unwelcome to venture out of the room. Anders’ reaction was, of course, quite the opposite. After too many years of being force-fed the Chantry’s slander against mages, Anders had no intention of letting anyone make him feel ashamed of being able to use magic. Anders, who was so deliciously submissive in the bedroom, had a tendency to be brazen and obstinate in front of others. He made a point of wandering through the castle, making sure that everyone who passed through the doors saw the mage Warden.

The upside to Eamon’s, albeit _failed_ , attempt at tucking Anders away was that their room was far from prying eyes – and ears. There would be no worry about anyone seeing Zevran enter, and no fear of anyone commenting on the less than normal sounds that might issue forth. Nathaniel honestly didn’t give a shit if the King himself walked in on them, but Anders would. And in order for this to work, Anders needed to be handled very carefully. Once the entertainment began, their roles would be as usual, but until then, Nathaniel needed to take a more gentle approach to his lover than usual. There would be no requests for permission from Nathaniel – that just wasn’t his way – but there would also be no demands. Anders had to understand that he had a choice in this. If he absolutely refused Zevran’s company, Nathaniel would not hesitate to send him away.

Pleased with himself, Nathaniel set off towards his room to talk to his mage.

oOoOo

Anders knew something was up the moment Nathaniel walked into the room. There was a gleam in his lover’s eye, an expression that usually meant he had something in store for Anders – often something wicked, and always something pleasurable.

He remained where he was, soaking in the bath, too content to get out just yet. The hot water from the natural springs below the castle was soothing, and he found his eyes slipping shut once more, a blissful smile on his face. He was surprised when he felt strong fingers running through his wet hair, gently teasing out the tangles; Nathaniel rarely bothered with such gentle, intimate touches. The action was soothing, and Anders let out a small sigh of pleasure. A low chuckle sounded behind him. He twisted around in the bath to look at his lover. “You’re in a good mood,” he smiled. “Glad we’re leaving tomorrow?”

Nathaniel smirked. “It’ll be a relief, yes. If there’s one thing I _didn’t_ miss about being a noble, it was all the arse-kissing you have to do with your higher-ups.”

Anders laughed. It was a rare treat when Nathaniel was like this; the rogue might not be sour _all_ the time, but he was certainly not known for being relaxed or easy-going. He reached up a dripping hand and lightly grasped the back of Nathaniel’s head, pulling him in for a kiss. Nathaniel complied easily, which in itself was surprising, though Anders certainly wasn’t going to complain. His lover took a few moments to kiss him deeply before drawing back again, looking at Anders intently.

“Do you trust me, Anders?”

Anders looked at his lover, startled. “Of course I do, you know that.”

Nathaniel nodded, satisfied with the answer. “I have something for you, a sort of gift, but it comes with a bit of a caveat.”

Now Anders was really confused. “What sort of gift?”

“Zevran.”

Anders looked at him. “Zevran? Nathaniel, what are you – ”

“You wanted to know what it was like to take another man.”

It took Anders a moment to comprehend what Nathaniel was saying, but when he did, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “You want me to _have sex_ with _Zevran_?” Anders’ thoughts on the idea were conflicting. He was definitely attracted to Zevran, and under different circumstances he might actually consider pursuing him – now that Nathaniel had shown him just how pleasurable it could be with another man. But that would only occur if he and Nathaniel weren’t together, which they were. Or at least he thought they were, but if Nathaniel was willing to share him with someone else....

Nathaniel seemed to understand Anders’ thoughts. “Don’t misunderstand me; I told you there was a caveat to this. I have to be there, the entire time. I will be watching, and you will still take your directions from me, as always. And... I will take him first.”

Understanding finally dawned – Nathaniel desired Zevran as well. The fact that he wanted Anders to be a part of it indicated the strong bond between them. Anders knew that Nathaniel had taken other lovers when Anders was with Solona, but he also knew for a fact that the rogue had been faithful to him since she had left. Anders had assumed it was because no one else had really caught Nathaniel’s attention. It wasn’t until now, though, that he recognized it for what it really was: a strong commitment of monogamy. He wanted Zevran, but he didn’t want to be unfaithful to Anders. By sharing Zevran between them, he wasn’t really cheating. But... “ _If_ I agree to this, I’ll still be yours, right? I don’t want things to change...” he trailed off, unsure of how to finish.

As usual, Nathaniel seemed to understand. “You’re afraid that I might find Zevran preferable to you.” He leaned in and kissed Anders. “You have nothing to worry about. I have invested far too much time in you to throw you over so easily.”

While far from a confession of love or even affection, Anders knew it for what it was: devotion. Commitment. Nathaniel might desire Zevran, might even bed him, but it was Anders he would remain with at the end of the day. Anders took another moment to think before nodding his head. “Alright. If this is what you want…”

Nathaniel’s stern look caught him by surprise. “We’re only doing this if this is what _you_ want, too.”

“I want it, Nate, really.” Worried that he might sound a little _too_ enthusiastic, he added, “So long as you’re there.”

Whatever response Nathaniel was about to give was interrupted by a knock on the door. He smiled, looking distinctly pleased. “He has excellent timing.”

Anders’ eyes widened in surprise. “That’s him? We’re doing this _now?_ ” He felt a brief moment of panic, though he wasn’t sure why.

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. “We’re leaving tomorrow, remember?” He got to his feet and walked over to the door.

Anders hastily climbed out of the bath, grabbing a towel to dry himself off with. As Nathaniel’s hand rested on the door handle, he turned and gave Anders a questioning look. “It’s your choice, Anders. Do I let him in, or turn him away?”

Anders swallowed thickly as he wrapped the towel around his waist. “Let him in,” he said quietly.

Nathaniel smiled with satisfaction as he turned the handle and opened the door. Zevran was standing just outside, his fist poised to knock again. The assassin slowly lowered his hand, smiling at Nathaniel. “I thought perhaps you had changed your mind.”

Nathaniel opened the door wider to let him in. “I just needed to make some arrangements.”

 _Such as convincing your lover that this is a good idea,_ Anders thought, somewhat hysterically.

Zevran’s head swiveled towards Anders, almost as if he could read the mage’s thoughts. “And has everything been arranged to your satisfaction?” The question was directed at Nathaniel, though his piercing hazel eyes were watching Anders.

“Most definitely,” Nathaniel replied smoothly. He walked over to Anders, placing a hand on his shoulder. Anders wasn’t entirely certain if the gesture was meant to reassure him, or to indicate possession. Knowing Nathaniel, it could have easily meant both.

“There are a few rules for tonight’s games,” he addressed Anders and Zevran together. “The first, and most important, is that I am in control. If I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed without question. Is that clear?”

Anders nodded immediately, expecting Nathaniel to say something along those lines – and hoping for it, as well, to be honest. He’d been unsure as to whether or not Nathaniel would expect obedience from Zevran tonight, and had been a little worried that the assassin might take Anders’ subservience to Nathaniel as meaning that Anders would be subservient to him as well.

Zevran’s expression was one of great seriousness, though his eyes were sparkling. “As you wish, Nathaniel. Or would you rather I call you ‘Master’ tonight?” It wasn’t a flippant question, Anders could tell – Zevran was completely earnest. Anders sucked in a breath, waiting to hear Nathaniel’s response. He wanted to protest at the idea of anyone besides himself referring to Nathaniel in such a way, but he held his tongue.

“Calling me by my name will suffice.” Nathaniel turned his gaze to Anders when he spoke. There were no words needed. Nathaniel was Master to only one man, and that was how it would stay. Anders looked away, trying to hide his pleased smile, though he was sure that Nathaniel would catch it.

Zevran’s light chuckle caught Anders’ attention, and his low purr, intoxicatingly seductive, drew Anders’ gaze to the elf’s plump lips. “As you wish… Nathaniel.” He chuckled again, and Anders’ breath caught at the heat that pooled in his groin. He closed his eyes, and almost missed Zevran’s next question. “What are your other rules for the night, then… Nathaniel?”

“For you? There is only one other. As you are our guest, you may have whatever you desire, with one exception: you cannot ask to take Anders… or myself.” He added the last part almost as an afterthought, though Anders thought it was likely unnecessary, given Nathaniel’s role in the night’s adventure.

If Zevran wondered about Nathaniel’s specificity that there was only one other rule for _him_ , with no mention of Anders, he didn’t say anything. He merely nodded his head. “That is quite generous of you, _amico_.” His eyes shifted to Anders, slowly looking him up and down. He leaned his back against the bedpost. “But before we begin, I would like to know one thing: why am I here?”

Nathaniel looked at him warily. “As I recall, you were the one who asked to be.”

Zevran nodded. “Indeed I did. I merely wish to know why you want me here. The two of you have a clearly defined relationship. I know what your role is,” he said to Nathaniel. “And I know what his role is,” he nodded his head at Anders. “What I wish to know is what my role will be tonight. A relationship such as yours does not often include a third person. So I ask again: what is my role?”

“He knows that I want you,” Anders said cautiously, feeling it was best to be completely honest, but unsure as to how Nathaniel would react to such a bold statement.

Nathaniel merely nodded his head. “Anders wants you, as do I; you’ve made it clear that you want us both. It is more than that, though.” He looked directly at Zevran, seeming to ignore Anders altogether. “There are certain things that Anders wants that I am unable to give him. I thought I would take advantage of our mutual desire to fulfill his wishes.”

Anders chewed the inside of his cheek nervously as he watched Zevran seem to take all of this in. Anders still wasn’t sure that this was a good idea. He knew Nathaniel well, and would not be surprised to find that he was just taking advantage of Zevran to get what he wanted. But if that was the case, why was he including Anders? Nathaniel could have easily bedded the other elf without Anders being involved. He wouldn’t even have to hide it really, for even if Anders knew about it, he wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ say anything. It would be extremely hypocritical for Anders to be upset about Nathaniel having sex with others when Anders had been in a relationship with Solona during the first few months of his relationship with Nathaniel.

“What is it that you want?” Zevran asked, directing his question at Anders.

Anders looked at Nathaniel, unsure of how to answer. Nathaniel was quiet for a few moments before speaking. “He wants to know what it is like to take another man. He...wants to experience being dominant.”

Zevran nodded. “And you cannot give him that. I understand, though I have to say I think you are missing out.” He smiled at Nathaniel’s look of confusion. “It is very pleasant to be submissive to someone you care for; you should try it sometime.

Nathaniel’s brow furrowed. “That’s not up for discussion,” he said bluntly, clearly closing the door on that topic.

Zevran sighed, acting for all the world as if Nathaniel had failed some test of his. The moment of disappointment – if that was truly what it was – passed quickly, and Zevran’s impish smile was back in place. “Well, if you are serious about my having whatever I desire, then,” his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, “what I most desire at this particular moment is a proper greeting.”

Anders’ eyes flicked to Nathaniel’s; he wasn’t quite sure what Nathaniel would allow. Seeing his hesitation, Nathaniel leaned forward until his lips were but a breath away from Anders’ ear. He spoke lowly so that Zevran could not overhear. “You may do as you wish tonight, Anders. As I said, I expect you to obey any orders that I give, but beyond that, you are free to enjoy yourself.” Anders was about to move away when Nathaniel spoke again, his voice still low. “There is just one thing.” Anders’ breath hitched at Nathaniel’s tone, because it was _the tone_. “You may not reach orgasm unless I tell you to.”

Anders bit at his lower lip, apprehensive. Nathaniel had been working with him patiently, teaching him the many ways of delaying orgasm – a concept foreign to a mage who had grown up in the Circle, where getting off quickly and undetected by a Templar were key to a successful tryst. But his “training,” so to speak, had always occurred when Nathaniel was taking him, or when he was watching Anders pleasure himself. But this, this was entirely new. He would be _inside_ another man, and he was terrified that he’d peak almost as soon as he had begun.

But Nathaniel was aware of Anders’ inexperience, and Anders trusted Nathaniel enough to know that the man wouldn’t push him beyond his limits. He would be watching Anders carefully, and would adjust accordingly. Of course, that wasn’t to say that he’d make it easy on Anders, not at all. Anders’ limits would be tested more tonight than perhaps ever before. A little shiver of anticipation ran down his spine.

In all this time, Zevran had not spoken a word; he’d merely waited, patiently, his lips curled upward with amusement. Anders glanced at Nathaniel one last time before moving toward Zevran, closing the distance between them. Hesitantly, he reached out his hand and cupped Zevran’s cheek, noting the smoothness of his skin. Zevran’s eyes lidded with pleasure, his head tilting up in expectation. Anders took the invitation and leaned down to press his lips to Zevran’s.

This was only the second man he’d ever kissed, and he noted the differences between the two. Both men had distinctly masculine scents, but where Nathaniel smelled like rosemary and leather – with just a faint hint of sweat – Zevran smelled like sandalwood and spice.

The kiss started out light, but didn’t stay that way for long. Zevran placed a hand on Anders’ hip, keeping him close as he parted his lips. Once again taking the invitation, Anders darted his tongue into Zevran’s mouth, exploring him. Zevran tasted like honey and…something citrusy, oranges or lemons maybe.

At first, Anders had been worried that he would feel too self-conscious about doing anything with Zevran while Nathaniel was in the room, but with his lust-heightened senses, he could hear Nathaniel’s quick aroused breathing and his cock filled with blood.  He moaned quietly as he kissed Zevran hungrily, his fingers moving to tangle in the former Crow’s sleek hair.

He gasped a little when he felt Nathaniel flick the towel away, leaving him bare. Immediately, he felt Zevran’s body pressed against him, unfortunately still fully clothed. Nathaniel seemed to have the same thought as Anders. “I think you’d be more comfortable if you weren’t wearing so many clothes.” His voice was husky.

Zevran pulled himself away from Anders’ lips, his tongue flicking against them quickly. He looked at Nathaniel appraisingly. “I could say the same of you, Nathaniel.”

“You needn’t worry about me,” Nathaniel responded dryly. “I think I’ll just watch... For now.” Anders looked at him in surprise. Anders had assumed that the main reason why Zevran was here was because Nathaniel wanted him; Nathaniel had even said as much when he’d told Anders that he would take Zevran first. He wondered what had made Nathaniel change his mind so quickly, and what his intentions were. Could it just be as simple as him wanting his lover to enjoy himself?

Barely thinking, he turned around and kissed Nathaniel hard, catching him by surprise. It only took a moment for Nathaniel to adjust, though, and he wrapped his arms tightly around the mage, taking control of the kiss as he always did.

When Anders finally drew back, he nipped lightly at Nathaniel’s lip before mouthing, _yours_.  He did not miss Nathaniel’s smile of satisfaction as he turned back to Zevran.

A similar smile curved Zevran’s lips as he began unbuttoning his tunic. “I am sure that Anders and I will be able to keep you properly entertained.”

Nathaniel chuckled lowly. “I’m sure you will. If not, I am equally sure I can come up with some suitable ideas.” That sent a shiver down Anders’ spine – Nathaniel had a tendency to come up with amazingly pleasurable ideas, despite his boring and staid reputation.

Zevran made no reply, other than to wink at Anders slyly before tugging his tunic off. Anders was delighted to see sinuous black lines of ink trailing along Zevran’s chest, and he couldn’t wait to see how far down they went. He watched as Zevran begin to undo the laces on his breeches. Soon they were lying on the floor next to his crumpled tunic. Anders’ eyes followed the trailing lines of tattoos over Zevran’s belly and down his thigh to his ankle. Even more alluring than the tattoos was Zevran’s cock – smaller than Nathaniel’s, but definitely enticing.

Aware that Nathaniel’s eyes were on him, Anders dropped to his knees in front of Zevran. He risked a quick glance upwards, to see Zevran smiling down at him, before he leaned in and flicked his tongue against the assassin’s cock. Zevran’s groan of pleasure emboldened Anders and he ran his lips along Zevran’s length, his tongue sliding over the hot skin. He felt fingers carding gently through his hair at the same time as a pair of hands settled onto his shoulders.  Without looking, he knew that it was Zevran’s hands – flexing in time with the drag of Anders’ tongue – on his shoulders, which meant that Nathaniel’s hands were in his hair. He wondered if the rogue would try to guide his movements.

Sure enough, he heard his lover’s raspy voice. “Suck him.” Anders’ lips parted willingly and he slowly took Zevran into his mouth.

He felt Nathaniel pressing against his back, and the wet smacking sounds above indicated that the two rogues were kissing. He tilted his gaze upwards, but he couldn’t see anything from his position. So he concentrated instead on the sweet treat inside his mouth, sucking on it lightly. His hands came up to grasp Zevran, balancing himself. Zevran’s gently grasping hands gripped firmer, harsher as Anders bobbed his head.

“Take him deeper,” Nathaniel rasped. As Nathaniel had taught him, Anders inhaled and relaxed his throat, sliding his lips all the way down Zevran’s cock until his nose was buried in the curly blond hair. He stayed there for a few beats, his throat fluttering lightly as Zevran moaned softly. Just as he needed to take a breath, the fingers in his hair tightened, pulling him gently but firmly back. “Not yet,” Nathaniel said.

Zevran’s harsh breathing was audible. “I had no idea you could be such a tease, Nathaniel.” This time Anders watched as Nathaniel leaned forward and kissed Zevran deeply. Arousal at the sight was mixed with just a twinge of jealousy, slight enough to be brushed aside for the time being.

Zevran’s lips tried to follow Nathaniel’s as the human rogue ended the kiss.  Nathaniel’s resulting chuckle was darkened with the promise of sex. “You will not leave here wanting, I can assure you of that.”

“I have no doubt of that,” Zevran purred. “Though I am curious as to how long you will draw the anticipation out. Will you make me beg, I wonder?”

Nathaniel chuckled again. “Only if you wish to, but it won’t be required.”

Zevran made a small tsking noise. “Too bad. Perhaps your lover would like me to beg?” He looked down at Anders.

Anders looked up at him speculatively. “Maybe,” he conceded, before grinning impishly. “We’ll have to see.” With a hand from Zevran, he climbed gracefully to his feet. Still clutching Zevran’s hand, he tugged him towards the bed, Nathaniel watching closely.

Anders looked to Nathaniel. “You’re sure about this?” He didn’t have to elaborate for Nathaniel to understand what he was talking about. Anders wanted to be sure that Nathaniel hadn’t changed his mind about not wanting to take Zevran first.

Nathaniel’s eyes sharpened. “Are you questioning my decisions?”

Anders swallowed, shaking his head. “No, Nathaniel.”

The rogue nodded his approval as he walked over to the chair at the end of the bed and sat down in it.

“Remember, Anders,” Nathaniel cautioned, “you will not come until I say you can.” He held up a hand to forestall Zevran’s question. “You are under no such restrictions.”

Zevran had already climbed onto the bed and was kneeling on it, facing Nathaniel. Anders knelt behind him, pressing his chest against Zevran’s back and leaning in to mouth at his neck. Zevran purred his approval as Anders began to suck at the sensitive skin there. Satisfied with the red mark that Anders had caused to bloom on Zevran’s honey skin, Anders drew back and leaned towards the bedside table, stretching his hand out to open the drawer and pull out the bottle of oil.

He uncorked the bottle and was about to pour some of the oil into his hand, when Zevran plucked the bottle from him. “Allow me, _amico._ ” Zevran drizzled oil over his first two fingers, careful not to spill any of it on the bed. He handed the bottle back to Anders and scooted forward a bit to create some space between himself and Anders. Resting his dry hand on Anders’ knee for balance, he reached back behind himself and slowly pressed a slick finger into his opening. There was enough room between them that Anders could watch the spectacle, fascinated at the sight of Zevran pumping first one, and then two fingers in and out of his own arse.

Zevran moaned softly with pleasure, rocking his hips as he fucked himself against his fingers. He turned his head to look back at Anders, a smirk on his face. “You will need to ready yourself; I only have so many hands.”

Anders flushed a little as he poured a generous amount of oil into his hand – likely more than he actually needed, but his hand was shaking with nerves and anticipation – and spread it over his length. He re-corked the bottle and set it back onto the table. Zevran removed his fingers and murmured that he was ready.

Anders moved forward so that he was flush with Zevran’s body once more. He grasped Zevran’s hip with one hand and used the other to guide his length to the elf’s slippery entrance. Just before he pushed inside, he looked up at Nathaniel. His lover was looking back at him intently, and Anders saw that his breeches were open, his cock gripped loosely in one hand. Nathaniel caught Anders’ eye and nodded at him, giving his silent permission.

Before Anders had a chance to move, though, Zevran rocked backwards sharply, impaling himself on the tip of Anders’ length. Anders gasped in surprise, letting go of his cock as he gripped the Antivan tightly. He rested his forehead against Zevran’s shoulder for a moment, trying to get control of himself. He wasn’t very deep inside Zevran yet, but he already felt overwhelmed by the sheer heat of Zevran’s body.

Zevran’s quiet, melodic chuckle filtered into Anders’ ears. “My apologies, _caro,”_ Zevran said, not sounding apologetic at all. “I am impatient to have you inside of me.”

Anders returned the quiet laugh. “I can tell.” He took a deep, calming breath, before slowly rocking forward, pushing himself in further. “Oh, Maker,” he moaned; the feeling of his cock enveloped by the tight heat was almost too much for him to bear. He was experienced enough – and learned enough – to know what to expect, but he hadn’t realized how _intense_ it would feel. He continued to push in slowly until he was fully seated inside, and then paused as he sucked in a few short breaths. He buried his face against Zevran’s neck as he held himself still for several moments.

He wasn’t remaining motionless for Zevran’s benefit, though he  knew well enough that the elf would appreciate the chance to adjust to Anders’ thick length.  Rather, he feared he’d reach orgasm if he tried to move. In that moment, he was acutely aware of Nathaniel watching him, and of the rogue’s previous instructions. Anders might not be able to hold out for a _really_ long time, but he wouldn’t disappoint his lover by coming almost as soon as he’d started.

When he finally felt that he had control of himself again, Anders began to move. The thrusts were shallow at first as he got used to the sensation of being buried balls-deep inside of Zevran, but he soon grew bolder. He drew back, withdrawing from Zevran almost completely, before thrusting in again hard – eliciting a deep groan from the elf.

“Again,” Zevran panted, his head tipped back to rest on Anders’ shoulder. Anders obliged him again, and again, each thrust harder than the last.

Anders was so caught up in the heady pleasure that he practically forgot his lover was still in the room; for all he could tell, the world consisted only of himself and Zevran, and this moment of perfect ecstasy. Nathaniel’s quiet rasp startled him and he shot a glance at the seated man. “Faster,” Nathaniel commanded. Anders’ eyes flared with lust as he saw that the rogue was stroking himself firmly.

“ _Si, caro,_ ” Zevran moaned in agreement, “do as your Master says.” He had one hand digging into the flesh of Anders’ hip, and the other was stretched up behind Anders’ head, wrapped in a lock of his loose hair.

Anders wrapped an arm around Zevran’s torso, pulling him close as he pounded into him faster. With his other hand, he grasped Zevran’s cock, pumping him in time with his quick thrusts. He felt heat rising in his belly, and his balls were slowly contracting. “Nate, I – ”

“Stop,” Nathaniel ordered harshly. Anders, panting, stilled his thrusts, though he could do nothing to stop his body shaking with the need for release. He had not realized he had stopped stroking the elf until he felt Zevran’s own hand clamp down, gripping Anders’ wrist tightly.

Zevran jerked forward, causing Anders to slide in and out of him again. Groaning lowly, Anders had to pull out completely, positive that any more friction against his cock would have him toppling over the edge. “Let me come,” Zevran rasped, his tone pleading, “please, _caro._ ”

Anders barely noticed when Nathaniel got up from his chair and walked over to the side of the bed; he was too focused on what he was doing to notice much of anything. He tightened his hold on Zevran’s waist, pinning the elf against his body to restrict his movement as he stroked him harder. Moaning loudly, Zevran let go of Anders’ wrist and clawed at Anders’ hip again, nails digging into the skin. A few more hard strokes and he finally came, crying out something in Antivan. Anders gasped as he felt the hot seed spurting over his hand.

Anders’ body was rigid with the tension of not allowing himself to come, and his cock – now pressed up against Zevran’s back – throbbed sharply. He felt the mattress dip, and suddenly Nathaniel was there, kneeling behind him. The warm body pressed against Anders’ back helped to calm him, as did the hands moving gently up and down his sides. There were no gentle words cooed in a soothing voice, but there were soft kisses upon his shoulders and neck. Slowly, Anders felt the tension drain from his body as he drew back from the edge.

Nathaniel sensed the change, and his lips moved to Anders’ ear. “Enter him again, slowly.” Zevran released his grip on Anders’ hair and brought his hand down to squeeze Anders’ reassuringly. Anders wiped his other hand – the one that had been stroking Zevran – on the bedsheets, cleaning it a little before he resumed his hold on Zevran. He guided the elf forward just a little, enough to allow the tip of his length to press enticingly against Zevran’s entrance. He began to push in again, ever so slowly, Nathaniel’s soothing touches encouraging him.

“You are doing beautifully, _caro_ ,” Zevran breathed. “You feel so good inside of me.” Zevran’s pleasure reassured Anders that he was actually doing this _right –_ he was secretly afraid that he might be rubbish at this – and he slowly began thrusting. In and out, in and out – he lost himself in the rhythm. Zevran’s moans of pleasure incited Anders to speed up his thrusts, though he was careful not to go _too_ fast, lest Nathaniel stop him again.

No such order came, though he did feel Nathaniel’s hands resting on his hips, almost, but not quite, guiding his movements. Anders felt the familiar pressure building inside of him, and he tried to bite back the tell-tale whine that accompanied it. He didn’t think that he’d be able to restrain himself a second time. Nathaniel must have sensed the change in him, and he leaned in to whisper in his lover’s ear. “You may let go now.”

Permission given, Anders began thrusting in harder, putting all of his strength behind each one. He looked over Zevran’s shoulder to see the elf stroking himself, loud moans ripped from his beautifully plump lips. The sight undid Anders and he let out a loud cry as he came so hard that he felt as if he was going to black out. He barely even noticed when Zevran brought himself back over the edge, the low groan muted by the blood pounding in Anders’ ears.

He felt Zevran slump back against him, which caused Anders to slump back against Nathaniel – neither of which he minded one bit. The three of them sat there, relaxing in each other’s holds and sharing an unexpected closeness.

Slowly Nathaniel maneuvered them so that they were all lying on the bed, Anders facing Zevran, and Nathaniel flush against his back. He smiled when Zevran leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips. Nathaniel’s arm tightened around Anders’ waist, but there was no vocal objection to the affectionate gesture. Zevran finally drew back, smiling at Anders. “You are amazing, _caro mio._ I can see why he is so attached to you.” The elf’s eyes flitted to Nathaniel. “And why he is so possessive of you. I would certainly pursue you were you not already spoken for.”

“Take care with your words, Zevran,” Nathaniel rumbled, his tone just shy of menacing.

Zevran actually laughed. “I mean no offense, my friend; I simply wished for you to know that you are an incredibly lucky man.”

Anders echoed Zevran’s laughter. “Oh, he knows _that,”_ he said playfully, unable to help himself. “I’m just too irresistible for my own good.”

“I would have to agree with that,” Nathaniel murmured. “You have no shortage of admirers.” Nathaniel’s voice was carefully neutral, making it hard for Anders to tell how the other man felt.

“You needn’t worry,” Zevran said to Nathaniel. “Anyone would be just as lucky to have you.” Anders felt something twist inside of him. It was one thing for Zevran to compliment _Anders_ , it was something else entirely for him to compliment _Nathaniel._ He instinctively grasped Nathaniel’s hand, squeezing it tightly. He was immensely relieved when his lover squeezed back.

Zevran smiled when he saw the gesture. “I think it is time for me to take my leave.”

“You don’t have to,” Nathaniel said, surprising Anders.

Zevran gave Anders another quick kiss before sitting up.  “You are leaving early in the morning, are you not? I suspect you will both want to get some sleep.” He climbed out of bed and dressed slowly. Nathaniel disentangled himself from Anders and stood up, pulling on a pair of breeches. Silently he walked Zevran the few steps to the door and opened it for him. Zevran chuckled. “Always the consummate gentleman. He cupped the back of Nathaniel’s neck and gave him a deep, lingering kiss.

“Remember what I said to you, Nathaniel,” Zevran said quietly. “When it is with someone you trust, letting go can be just as enjoyable as being in control. Perhaps even more enjoyable.” He turned to Anders and winked at him saucily before stepping through the door and closing it behind him.

When Nathaniel turned back to Anders, his eyes were burning with an emotion that Anders knew well: desire. He advanced towards Anders, his stance almost predatory as if he were stalking his prey. Anders knew what was coming next, and he shivered in anticipation. Wordlessly, Nathaniel climbed into bed and straddled his lover. He descended on Anders quickly, kissing him hard. This was no tender brushing of lips – teeth bit at Anders’ lips, a questing tongue plunged into his mouth. Fingers tangled in his hair and pulled sharply to expose Anders’ neck where Nate bit hard enough to break the skin. Anders cried out with pleasure, his fingers clawing at Nathaniel’s back.

“You are _mine,”_ Nathaniel growled harshly, before biting down again.

Anders let out a low whine. “Yes, Nathaniel.”

“Say it!” Nathaniel commanded.

“I’m yours, Nathaniel,” Anders said obediently, “yours alone, yours always.”

Nathaniel grabbed the bottle of oil and slicked his length with it. He poured more of the oil onto his fingers and plunged them into Anders’ entrance, doing only the bare minimum of stretching before pulling them out again. Moving back, he flipped Anders onto his stomach and gripped his hips tightly, pulling him up onto his knees. Anders rested his forehead on his hands, his arse raised up invitingly. He cried out when Nathaniel plunged into him, the lack of stretching and the girth of Nathaniel’s cock combined to create the most delicious pain.

“Fuck, Nathaniel,” he groaned. Nathaniel didn’t bother waiting for Anders to adjust to him; he pulled back before thrusting in again, hard, setting up a brutal pace that had Anders moaning almost constantly.

“Say it again,” Nathaniel growled, thrusting into him hard.

“Yours,” Anders choked out.

“Louder!”

“ _Yours!”_ Anders practically screamed the word as Nathaniel angled his thrusts to hit Anders’ sweet spot at the exact same time. Anders sobbed with relief as he felt a hand closing around his cock.

Nathaniel thrust in even harder, putting all of his strength behind it. “You’re _mine._ _Never_ forget that.”

“Never,” Anders said hoarsely. “Nate, please...”

Nathaniel stroked Anders slowly, in contrast to his fast pace. “Please, what, Anders?”

Anders let out a choked sob. “Please let me come, _please_.”

Nathaniel’s grip tightened, and he stroked Anders faster. “Come for me, Anders. Do it _now!_ ”

Anders came hard, his body shuddering. Reflexively he clenched around his lover’s length, causing Nathaniel to groan. The rogue snapped forward once more before finally coming, his seed spurting against Anders’ walls.

They remained like that for a few minutes, both men gasping for air, before Nathaniel finally pulled out of his lover. Anders slumped forward onto the bed, completely sated. Nathaniel lay down next to him, pulling him into his arms. Anders clung to him, burying his face against Nathaniel’s neck. He breathed in his lover’s familiar and comforting scent.

“Why did you change your mind about taking Zevran first?” Anders finally asked.

Nathaniel seemed to hesitate. “I don’t know.”

Anders sighed against Nathaniel’s neck. “I don’t understand you at all,” he said, voice muffled. “I mean, sometimes I _think_ I understand you, but then I turn out to be wrong.” Anders draped his arm over Nathaniel’s chest, snuggling close. “I thought the only reason you invited Zevran here tonight was because you wanted him. And for some reason, you didn’t want to sleep with him without me knowing about it. So you invited him here, and told me you were doing it for me, as if it was some magnanimous gift you were giving me, and you were pretending that you didn’t actually have any interest in Zevran yourself. I just assumed it was your way of getting to have Zevran, and to get me to stop bothering you. But then you decided not to take him, and I don’t understand that at all. If that was what you wanted the whole time – and I was alright with that, really – then why did you change your mind?”

Nathaniel sighed softly and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Anders,” he repeated. “I honestly don’t. All I can say is that I changed my mind.”

“We’re not leaving until after lunch tomorrow... You could go to him in the morning...”

“No,” Nathaniel said firmly. “Perhaps another time, but not without you there.”

Anders’ eyes widened and he tilted his head to look up at Nathaniel. “Why not?”

Nathaniel half-shrugged. “Because that’s how I want it. Tonight was meant to be a one-time thing, but I’m not averse to having Zevran share our bed again sometime. But that’s what it will be: _our_ bed. It will never be without you.”

Anders’ chest tightened at the same time as a small smile curled his lips. “Nathaniel... I...” he trailed off, uncertain if he should actually say the words.

He felt the arm tighten around him. “I know, Anders,” Nathaniel said quietly. “I know.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adding a belated note to this:
> 
> I'm having an absolute ball writing this 'verse -- it's great having an outlet for all my kinky thoughts -- but I'm a little stuck on where to go next / what else to do with these two. If you've got any ideas (either fleshed-out prompts, or just kinks you'd like to see) feel free to drop me a line. You can send me an ask on my tumblr (kelcat18) or send a pm through ffnet or dreamwidth (both kelcat).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] Secret Desires Chapter 1 by Kelcat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3103478) by [NeuroticSquirrel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeuroticSquirrel/pseuds/NeuroticSquirrel)




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